You'll Be The Death of Me
by Dominikki644
Summary: AU. OC: Graces Malfoy, Draco's twin sister. Neville, with his usual bad luck, ends up partners with Graces Malfoy for Herbology, just after landing her father in Azkaban, after the Ministry ordeal. Will this partnership prove to be as awful as it sounds? 6th year. Rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: AU. OC: Graces Malfoy, Draco's twin sister. Neville, with his usual bad luck, ends up partners with Graces Malfoy for Herbology, just after landing her father in Azkaban after the Ministry ordeal. Will this partnership prove to be as awful as it sounds? 6th year. Rated M for sexual content.**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Rated M for sexual content and language.**

**Author's note: A very special thanks to my amazing brilliant betas ArthurDent2 and Denarii! Who have been knights in shining armor to this story, saving it multiple times from my awful grammar mistakes and more.**

Chapter One

Neville Longbottom had definitely had better days. His first day back at Hogwarts for his 6th year had already started off poorly. First, Professor Snape had decided to immediately humiliate him in front of the whole class. They hadn't even had their first assignment when he narrowed his eyes and asked how he was still able to be in his class. All Neville could do was stammer. Thankfully, Hermione had spoken up and told the professor that Neville had indeed passed his Potions OWL and was therefore eligible to continue taking the class. Snape was far from pleased with that information and proceeded to make his time in class even more miserable. Not only did he take points away from Gryffindor house, as usual, he then stood behind him and Hermione for the rest of the class, just watching. It was nerve wracking, having the potions master stare him down as he worked, smirking or making a tutting noise every few minutes.

He was becoming increasingly more and more nervous with each second that passed until he could no longer concentrate and his hands began to shake, which, of course, resulted in him accidentally knocking over an ingredient, spilling much more than instructed into the cauldron. Obviously, this was not supposed to happen because the potion began to fizz and bubble violently and the class had to be evacuated, as it was to explode. It was not the first time this had happened to Neville. He was already embarrassed enough, but then to top it off Snape demanded that he spent the rest of the majority of the morning cleaning up the mess he'd made, which meant the _entire _potions classroom, while Snape glared at him from behind his desk.

Then there were the Malfoys. Neville should have expected Draco to make his life a living hell after the ordeal at the ministry, but he honestly wasn't that worried about it because he felt that Draco could not be any more horrid to him than he already was. He was wrong. Draco Malfoy now was taking every chance he could get to make Neville feel not only emotional, as was his specialty before, but now physical pain. He went out of his way in the halls to shove him or hex his bag open spilling its contents in the middle of a busy, crowded corridor. Now he couldn't use the loo around the school because if any other Slytherin boys saw him alone they would jump him, beating on his chest and stomach until they were so black and blue he could barely breathe. They didn't dare hit him anywhere visible and he couldn't stand the thought of telling anyone and becoming even more pathetic than he usually was considered. He silently wished he was more like his father, a true Gryffindor. If he was anything like him, then he would have done something ages ago to get Draco Malfoy off his back. No one was ever surprised about his father being a Gryffindor, but the whole school, even after six years, still doubted if the hat placed him in the right house.

Then there was the other Malfoy, the one who watched with cold eyes, as she just stood there while her twin taunted him. Graces Malfoy. Neville wondered if she did it because she felt that what Draco was doing was enough torment for the both of them or maybe she just found it uninteresting. Then again, Graces Malfoy always seemed to keep her hands clean from dirty work. He had never once heard her even speak out of class. She was a silent presence by her brother's side. She would occasionally smirk at the comments he'd make and could be seen daily talking with other Slytherins in the halls and at meals, that famous Malfoy sneer on her face as Pansy Parkinson whispered the latest gossip in her ears. Graces Malfoy was a silent mystery to the school. There was no denying she was a beautiful girl, but she was very unapproachable and, of course, a Malfoy. Those two things alone kept any suitors other than Slytherins away. He couldn't help but be more frightened of the female version of Draco though, something told him that, like with plants, the silent beauty was more dangerous.

Neville was lost in thought, wondering about what Graces Malfoy had in store for him. He was so deep in thought, in fact, that he almost walked straight into the very Slytherin girl he was thinking about. Graces Malfoy was clutching her books tightly to her chest and standing completely still in front of Neville's taller frame. The Gryffindor didn't know what to do as he just stood there, gawking at her, waiting for her to pull out her wand and hex him into the hospital wing. But she didn't. She just stood there, her cold gray eyes boring into Neville's bewildered ones. He eventually realized at what close proximity they were standing and awkwardly took a sudden step back. If this had been anyone else he would have babbled apologies, but he couldn't find anything to say to the Malfoy girl standing before him.

Her face held absolutely no emotions. Neville thought that any movement on her face may cause it to crack, it looked so much like stilled porcelain. Her frigid stare was beginning to make him more anxious with every second. He was sure that she was about to unleash an arsenal of hurt on him he almost flinched a bit in anticipation, but she never did. She held his steady gaze for one more moment and then just walked to the door gracefully and exited the castle, heading to the greenhouse. Their strange gaze had ended as suddenly as it had begun. He stood still a few moments, unable to believe his luck at running into a Malfoy and escaping without a single bruise or insult, before cautiously making his way over to the greenhouse.

When Neville entered Greenhouse four, which was reserved for advanced herbology, he noted that Malfoy was already at the very front of the class. He watched the back of her head for a moment before taking a seat with Hermione, who was already writing notes on a piece of parchment, detailing things from their book.

"Malfoy two is in this class. You know she is the only Slytherin that is taking advanced Herbology and she is also the only one that is awful at it. I have no idea why she even bothers," Hannah Abbott said, taking a seat to the left of Neville.

"She must not be that bad if she is able to take this course," Hermione stated, not bothering to look up from her parchment.

"Or Daddy paid her way in," Hannah retorted.

"Professor Sprout wouldn't allow such a thing," Neville stated firmly, "If she is in this class it is because she passed her OWLs for it."

"I don't see how she could have. Neville, you're in here all the time, surely you have seen how much she struggled with each and every project she's had."

Neville couldn't refute that; multiple times he had walked into the greenhouse and seen the blonde struggling to keep her plant alive. If the plant wasn't trying to attack her, it was wilting away into nothing. It was lucky for her that Parkinson was usually able to save said plant every time.

"Since when do you defend Malfoys, anyways?" Hannah asked skeptically.

"I'm not defending her. I am defending Professor Sprout's integrity," Neville stated, taking out his supplies while trying hard to keep a firm look even as his cheeks pinked at being so outspoken on behalf of his favorite professor. "I just don't want anyone saying Professor Sprout can be bought." Then, looking over at Hermione, he quietly added, "I think you know I would be the last person defending those two."

"They will eventually get bored with it all," Hermione reassured him sympathetically. She was aware of the situation with Neville and the Malfoys after she had caught Neville attempting to make a potion to heal his bruising. "I mean they do, after all, have other things to focus on. NEWTS are next year and they're both prefects."

"I don't know if they will," Neville groaned.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell anyone, Nev?" Hermione asked for the umpteenth time, as she put a kind hand on her friends shoulder. "I'm sure that Professor Mcgonagall could do something. I bet you could even do something," she continued encouragingly, "you stood up to Death Eaters just a few months ago, surely you can stand up to two pompous, teenage blondes."

"Two pompous, teenage blondes that are blood-related to Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange," Neville said, more to himself than the girl beside him.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and muttered something about blood not having anything to do with anything and Hannah just sighed in exasperation at Neville.

Professor Sprout started the class with her usual first day business, going over the syllabus. Everyone in the class was drowning out her prattle and looking around the greenhouse at the exotic, dangerous plants they would be allowed to handle this year. Neville was particularly excited to be working with venomous tentacula; it was extremely rare, very expensive and, most of all, temperamental. And yet it was so vital to so many medical potions. It was a necessary plant and a herbologist's dream.

"Now, if everyone could find a partner for the school year, we can begin to discuss the first of our many exciting projects."

Most people were sitting with the person they wanted to be partnered with, so it was a very quick process. Or it would have been, except that the only Slytherin in the room was sitting alone and Neville, Hermione and Hannah were the only trio sitting together.

Graces stood and looked around the room, Neville almost felt sorry that no one had seemed to want to be her partner, but in all reality he was terrified at the idea of having to be the one stuck with her.

"Not it!" Hannah and Hermione exclaimed in unison as silver eyes trailed over to their table and the young girl began to approach them.

"What?" Neville yelped, looking at both girls with wide, panicked eyes, "No way, you can't seriously mean for me to partner with her! I won't survive the term!"

"She won't want to work with me Neville and I really don't fancy being called names every day for the rest of the year," Hermione countered leaving the sandy haired boy to turn to Hannah.

"Nev," Hannah whined, "I won't pass this class with her. Hermione and you are the best in the class and she is the worst, it wouldn't be fair to partner me with her. You, however, will still manage even with her as a partner. And... well... I'm a half-blood... and you are a pure blood... she may... well... treat you better."

"Technically, I'm a 'blood traitor' which apparently is even worse, so that's not going to help me at all, and to top that off I was one of the people that landed her father in Azkaban!" Neville hissed, trying to stay quiet, his panic growing more and more, "She is going to-"

"As much as I am enjoying this utterly _thrilling_ conversation, I am still in need of a partner," a cold voice drawled.

All three heads shot up to see the coolly composed girl in front of them. Neville gave the girls around him a dirty look before packing his things and moving around the desk to where Graces was standing. He didn't even bother to hide his disappointment at being her partner as he stood in front of her. The aristocratic blonde raised one elegant eyebrow at him before giving a single nod and walking back to her desk.

"I don't understand why you are so hostile toward me, Longbottom," Graces stated, calmly taking

her seat.

Neville didn't bother to respond to such a ridiculous statement. If Graces Malfoy wanted to mock him she very well could without any of the pleasure of his retort. He just continued to place his things on the desk before them, ignoring her.

"Well?"

Neville gritted his teeth and looked up at the Slytherin to see she looked genuinely puzzled, a small frown gracing her face as she stared at him with such intensity he just wanted to shrink.

"Y-you can't be serious."

"Do I look as though I am jesting, Longbottom?"

"No... But I realize you Malfoys combine jesting with cruelty, so I wasn't sure," Neville said bitterly, turning to face the front before he felt a frighteningly strong hand grab his arm.

"When I am being cruel you will know. Now what is it that I have done to make you act as though being partners with me will lead to your demise?" Graces whispered darkly.

Neville could not believe that, of all the people in the world, Graces Malfoy believed herself to be innocent of any offense against him. The fact that she could stand beside him and insinuate that she was undeserving of his hostility made him seethe with righteous anger.

"Well," Neville began before he could regain his temper, "your Aunt is the reason I live with my Gran, your father tried to kill me and my friends last year, oh and let's not forget the fact that your brother has made me his personal punching bag this year!"

Neville could not believe that he just said all of that to a Malfoy. He silently patted himself on the back for actually using his back bone. He almost felt smug and then he looked at Graces face.

"I believe what I asked was, what have _I_ done, not my family. What have _I_ done, Mr. Longbottom, to earn this treatment? Because, as far as I can see, I am the only one that is being regarded so callously, by _you_. I don't think you have treated anyone with such dispassion as you have done me. And for the record, I have never once called Hermione Granger a mudblood before, so I do not understand why she made the assumption that if she was my partner I would do so."

"Are you trying to say I am the one being cruel?" Neville asked in astonishment.

"You almost plow me over in the hall and then instead of apologizing like I've seen you do a thousand times in the corridors, you look at me like I'm… well... like I'm not something exactly pleasant, to say the least," Graces said, seemingly trying to regain composure and turning to face the front of the class. "Then you and your friends talk about how awful I am in this class and then you three have a discussion about how none of you want to be my partner as I am walking up to you."

Neville just sat there staring at the girl in front of him; he had never really looked at Graces Malfoy as separate from Draco Malfoy before. Like they were always one entity, kind of like the way Fred and George were.

"Are you saying I... _hurt_ your feelings?"

That earned him a very Draco Malfoy-ish glare. "What? No, of course not. Like you have the ability to hurt me. Just forget it."

"Mr. Longbottom, Miss Malfoy, if you two are finished with your conversation, I would ask that you focus your attention back to the front of the class," Professor Sprout said loudly, earning the two students a couple chuckles from around the room.

For the remainder of the class time Neville tried to focus on what Professor Sprout was saying, but he couldn't. He felt guilty for not being more careful of Graces' feelings. He certainly didn't want to be friendly with the blonde, but was she correct in saying that he had been the cruel one? He certainly never meant to be, but, intentional or not, he knew first hand that it still stung when people were careless with your feelings.

When class was dismissed Neville watched as his partner quickly gathered her things and placed them in her rucksack, not bothering to even glance at him. He slowly put away his things as well, trying to figure out what to say to the Slytherin before she left.

"I'm sorry," Neville said quietly as Graces swung her bag over her shoulder. She paused for a moment before turning and actually looking at the sandy haired boy before her. "I...I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Graces scowled at the last statement. "You don't have the power to hurt my feelings, Longbottom."

Neville sighed in exasperation, "Then why say anything at all?"

"So you and your friends would know that you are not as noble as you think you are." With that, she turned sharply away and strode out of the classroom, leaving Neville to stand alone at his desk.

Neville left the classroom feeling awful. Had he misjudged Graces? She was right in that she had never, herself, been cruel to him, and now that he thought of it he couldn't remember a time where she had ever, herself, done anything to anyone at the school. It did seem as though everyone connected her to her family's actions. What Draco did, she was somehow involved in, what her parents did was a reflection on her character, and what her aunt did, as well. He himself had even said earlier that her mix of blood made her more of a monster than her family. Now that he thought of it, that comment was indeed unfounded and unfair and even a bit hypocritical, in a way.

"Neville," Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts as she and Hannah both joined him on the grounds after class while he made his way back to the castle, "we're really sorry. We saw you two talking and it didn't look at all pleasant. I don't know what she said to you after class, but... well... we can tell it bothered you..."

"Hermione, has she ever said or done anything cruel to you?" the sandy haired boy asked, not even acknowledging her apology.

"Her brother-"

"No, has _she_ personally ever said anything cruel to you?"

Hermione frowned clearly unsure of where this was coming from, but after a moment she slowly shook her head. "I suppose not. She has refused my help a few times in class and once when she realized that I was the one in front of her at a drinking fountain she scowled and walked away. I suppose she'd rather be thirsty than drink from the same fountain as me."

"What are you trying to insinuate Neville? That Graces Malfoy isn't evil like the rest of her family?" Hannah asked, scowling.

"No... I... I don't know. I just... well, maybe we judged her unfairly..." Neville said shyly, not looking at either girl.

"Just because she isn't as vocal as her brother doesn't change the fact that they hold the same beliefs. She'll be a Death Eater just like her aunt, mark my words," Hannah stated passionately.

"You know," a bored voice sounded from behind the group "some would think it unwise to openly discuss someone's potential at being a Death Eater in such a public setting." Graces Malfoy was now nose to nose with Hannah, but the Hufflepuff girl stood her ground, as always unafraid of toil. "Did you know that in order to become a Death Eater you have to serve a mission involving killing someone for the Dark Lord? That being said, it may be unwise to gain attention from a person who may one day follow the Dark Lord."

"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Hannah asked through gritted teeth.

Graces looked into Hannah's green eyes with her cold gray ones, she seemed to be searching for something and didn't seem to mind the proximity at which she was standing near the other girl. Hannah, however, was beginning to feel uncomfortable and as unflinching as she looked, it was obvious she was holding her breath.

"Now Abbott, why would you say such a thing?" Graces asked with false innocence and surprise, "Here I am giving you very good advice, advice that may very well _save you_ from angering the wrong person, thus saving your life and you accuse me of threatening you."

Hannah said nothing, just continued to glare at the blonde in front of her. Hermione reached out her hand and placed it on Graces shoulder only to have the girl whip it away like she had burned her.

"Do not touch me," Graces said darkly, taking a step away from Hannah finally and glaring at Hermione.

"Why? Because I'm not a pureblood like you?" Hermione asked disdainfully.

"You said it Granger, not me," the blonde said contemptuously, before disappearing to her next class.

Hannah and Hermione waited until Graces was completely out of sight before turning to Neville.

"Do you still think that we judged her unfairly?" Hannah spat.

Neville didn't answer, he listened half heartedly as the two girls talked on their way to class, hanging back a bit. His mind was still preoccupied with Graces Malfoy. He wondered if under that cold demeanor and sharp tongue, there was a girl that was hurt by what others were saying about her. If he brought it up to anyone they would probably all deem him mental and try to tell him that Malfoys didn't have feelings to hurt. And yet, he couldn't help but remember how she looked in class when she asked why she deserved such treatment. She had been cold and detached, but there was something in her eyes as she tried to describe how he looked at her in the hall. He could have sworn it was hurt; the emotion had only been on her face briefly before it fluttered away, but seeing her usually cold face exposed with such a raw emotion bothered him.

Maybe she did have all the beliefs that her brother held, but was that alone reason enough for him to behave so spitefully to her? She had the right to her beliefs just as anyone else did. And she wasn't being malicious to anyone like the rest of her family and friends; though she didn't seem to mind their cruelty. He wondered idly why she wasn't as overtly obvious with her beliefs as her brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: AU. OC: Graces Malfoy, Draco's twin sister. Neville, with his usual bad luck, ends up partners with Graces Malfoy for Herbology, just after landing her father in Azkaban, after the Ministry ordeal. Will this partnership prove to be as awful as it sounds? 6th year. Rated M for sexual content.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.

Rated M for sexual content and language

Author's note: Special thanks to my beta AurthurDent2!

Chapter 2

Neville Longbottom knew he was starting to obsess over Graces Malfoy, but he couldn't seem to stop. Ever since their first conversation, he found himself wanting to know the girl, that up until this point, he had deemed as a, heartless, domineering, future death eater. Neville spent weeks contemplating the riddle that was Graces Malfoy. He watched her, with her friends in the corridors, smirking at what was being said. His eyes wandered to her in the great hall, sitting with her brother eating her meals delicately. And much to the dismay of his already bad enough potions grade, he had become mesmerized with her in potions class too. Her face tranquil as she read the directions, her hands easily moving about her desk as if without thought: cutting this, stirring that, and always at the end producing a perfect brew. She was quite amazing. Neville didn't think any person could work with such ease. He was surprised that, up until that point, he had never noticed that Graces was a very advanced witch. Her talents just were not recognized as much as Hermione's, she was smart, definitely, but it was just different. She was quiet and didn't answer questions in class often, but when she did, she answered them efficiently and always had another tidbit of information to add. Her eyes that he had always considered so cold, would light up and gleam whenever she answered a question, was working on a project, or learned a new bit of information that she found interesting.

The only class she seemed to struggle in was Herbology, and as much as she struggled, the sandy haired boy had the impression that she was enjoying herself all the same. It was like she had a switch, anytime she got near a plant she was useless. Plants to Graces Malfoy were like potions to Neville Longbottom. No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to mess something up, causing the plant to wilt away or attack her. Even if she followed all the instructions explicitly, double and triple checking, the plants seemed to not want to cooperate with her. It was frustrating for both students, considering their grades were more heavily weighed on the practical aspect of the class.

Neville, for the past few weeks, had worked diligently alongside Graces in the greenhouse. She clearly did her reading, she understood the properties of each plant, what they needed to survive, and she even understood the Latin in the names. She also knew a decent amount of the history associated with most plants they studied. Neville silently wished she was more talkative so they could have discussions on herbology while they worked, but her callous demeanor towards him let him know that conversation wasn't welcome. Writing their paper together was the only time she really spoke, and even then it wasn't really a discussion. They would tell each other what information to add or ask that something be re-worded here or there. Yet, despite her attitude towards him, he was surprisingly at ease in her company.

It was now Saturday and Neville was sitting in the Great Hall with Dean and Seamus. Dean was explaining football to the fire prone Irish boy, while Neville listened absently. Football just seemed like a boring muggle sport in comparison to quidditch. Besides, Neville had other things on his mind; he was determined to not look over at the Slytherin table today. He had decided that he had gone beyond just being curious about the girl, to actually turning a bit creepy. He now knew how she liked her tea, that she had a major sweet tooth, and that she preferred to read during her morning breakfast, among other little tidbits about her that he'd picked up. He noticed that while Pansy and the other Slytherin girls liked to link arms while walking in the corridors, Graces preferred to walk alone. Actually, now that he thought of it, Neville realised that she didn't seem to like to be touched at all. It was as though she had an invisible bubble around her, and apparently it was well known in the Slytherin house that she enjoyed her space. This is the reason that when she did finally come in the Great hall for breakfast, with her brother's arm comfortingly around her, he no longer was able to keep his resolve not to look at her.

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"It's going to be okay Graces," Draco murmured quietly as they sat down for breakfast. He debated keeping his arm around his sister's shoulder to continue comforting her, but decided that he didn't want to be like the Weasley's and baby her like the way they all did Ginny. He did, however, let her sit close enough to him so that their arms were touching. "I bet Longbottom will know exactly what to do."

"I don't want to rely on_ Longbottom_," Graces whined huffily playing with her porridge.

"It is embarrassing isn't it? Needing Neville Longbottom for help? Sounds dreadful," Draco said teasingly as he buttered his toast.

"You are not making me feel better, Draco."

"I'm sorry, but it will be resolved. Just go talk to the dimwit before he leaves the hall and let him know you need his help."

"He's going to think I'm daft…"

"Nooo," Draco corrected, "he is going to think you are overreacting to a tiny spot on a plant."

"I am not overreacting! It could very well be the 'black death' with my luck; it's not uncommon for Hellebores to get it." Graces had now thrown her spoon down into her bowl and was breathing so heavy her nostrils flared with each intake of air. Draco took a moment to look around the Slytherin table and thanked the gods that everyone was still sleeping in. It wouldn't do to show weakness at such a crucial time. After making sure no one had noticed his sister's momentary lapse, he gently placing his hand on his sister's knee.

"Calm down," he murmured under his breath, "Finish your breakfast and walk over to the Gryffindor table. You are a Malfoy, we don't lose our composure in the face of the Dark Lord, and you certainly don't lose it over a silly plant."

The blonde girl blushed and nodded her head. Her brother was right, she was being irrational. She would just go over to Longbottom and ask him to look at the plant with her. He was, after all, her partner, and he had just as much riding on their plant as she did. It was in his best interest to look at the plant. It was her weekend to tend to it, but surely he wouldn't mind taking a quick look in case there was, in fact, a disease riddling their Hellebores. She looked up to make sure that he was still in the Great Hall, and frowned when she saw that he was watching her. He quickly looked away and then began to pack his things hurriedly, much to Graces panic.

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Neville was so embarrassed; he had no idea how long Graces had noticed his gaze before he realized she was looking directly back at him. He just wanted to get out of the Great Hall as fast as he possibly could. He thought the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon in his dorm working on his potions essay was a thousand times better than being in the same room as Graces Malfoy after she had noticed him gawking at her.

He had just made it out the doors and was about to head up the main steps, when he heard a familiar voice call out from behind him.

"Longbottom! Wait!"

Neville nervously turned around to face Graces. He was sure the blonde was going to call him out on staring at her, demand to know why. She seemed to never want to talk with him unless it had to do with class or unless she felt the need to confront him about something, like the first day. However, what he saw made him furrow his brow in surprise. When he looked at Graces she didn't seem angry, she seemed flustered and embarrassed.

"I... I think we have a problem."

"A problem?" Neville asked, mortified when his voice faltered and cracked with the question. Luckily, Graces didn't seem to notice.

She stood there for a few moments, worrying her lip, a few stairs under the Gryffindor, before continuing, "I know it's my weekend to take care of our project and, well, I'm not trying to get out of that…but I noticed something on a few of our Hellebores and I think it's a disease."

"Can you describe what you noticed?" the sandy haired boy asked, crossing his arms and gazing studiously at the flustered blonde.

"Uh yes," Graces stammered taken aback by Neville's sudden shift in confidence, "I think I am noticing some browning on healthy tissue; I am worried that it may be the Black Death. That could prove fatal to our plants and I thought that maybe the ventilation in the environment might be to blame."

"How much browning are we talking about? Some browning is normal on older leaves; it's just part of the life cycle."

"Well… that's where I umm… there really isn't much, but I just would feel more comfortable if you wouldn't mind taking a quick look."

Neville nodded and began walking down the stairs and heading to the Greenhouse with Graces by his side. When they entered the Greenhouse, Neville noticed that the blonde seemed to have recollected herself.

He spent a few minutes examining the plant and checking the ventilation in the area around their project. After awhile he decided there was nothing to be worried about.

"Everything seems to be fine, there is slight browning on healthy tissue as you said, however, the area is so small it really can't be problematic. If the browning begins to spread more, and quickly, we can worry, but as of right now I don't see any reason for us to charm I put on the plant prevents aphids from getting on it and carrying lethal viruses, like the Black Death, over to it."

Neville watched as Graces fidgeted with her hands, she obviously wanted to say something more, but was holding herself back. He wasn't sure if he should press her to go ahead and speak freely or wait. In the end she just nodded, much to his disappointment.

"Malfoy, if you don't believe that my diagnosis is right you can tell me. I won't be offended, just tell me why you think I'm wrong and we can talk about it."

Graces seemed hesitant, but finally nodded. "I... I'm sort of a jinx when it comes to plants. I can do everything right and they just seem to die... attack me, or on prominent occasion do both. Pansy was a great partner because she usually took care of the plants with me. I never had to do it alone and that usually helped the plants and thus our grade. I honestly mostly watched and did the minimal interaction with them as possible. Of course I wrote most of the papers to make up for it, I would never not pull my own weight. Anyways, my point is that plants and I do not mix well. I know that there is no real reason for me to feel like our plant is dying, but based on my history with plants, I sound mad, but it's how it is. You haven't been partners with me long enough to know. You and your friends are right I am absolutely awful at herbology, but my father did NOT buy my way into this class. I earned my way in. Despite my handicap with plants I am very knowledgeable, and I realize and am sorry that I have taken up your Saturday morning, but I don't think I can take care of a plant with no supervision for a whole weekend. I will gladly work with you in watering and caring for it if you give me times to meet you, but, I think, if you leave me to do it alone we will both fail this course."

If Hannah or Hermione would have been standing before him, he would have laughed at this little rant and told them they were overreacting. He would have told them that getting this worked up over some slightly browning leaves was ridiculous, and insisted they go up to the castle and get some much needed rest. He was glad that Graces at least was not crying like some girls would be with this; she just seemed embarrassed, flustered, and frustrated all at once. It was almost endearing to see her being so human. It was hard to believe this was the same frigid girl he had been around for the past six years.

"Malfoy," Neville did his best to try and hide his amusement from the worked up blond, "I only suggested that we work separately because I thought you would prefer it. I didn't think you wanted to work in such close proximity with me for more than you were required to. I honestly was planning on checking on the plants this weekend anyways. After all, I am always in here helping Professor Sprout and working on my own projects. I don't mind meeting with you over the weekend to tend to our project."

"You don't mind. Really?" Graces asked dubiously.

"No, not at all," Neville said, "and also, I know you are knowledgeable about plants and I never thought your father bought your way in this class." He gave her a small, but genuine smile.

The Slytherin girl just stared at the boy in front of her, looking for signs of deceit, before giving a quick nod and returning back to her original frosty demeanor. Neville took that as his cue to take leave and began walking out of the greenhouse.

"I'll come by after lunch to check on the spots!" he called over his shoulder hoping that would at least sooth some of the girl's nerves.

She didn't answer back; he supposed a comment wasn't really necessary, he was walking away. He couldn't help leaving feeling a little happy about his encounter with her. He felt like he just saw a small glimpse of what she was like under that aristocratic, pure blood mask, of hers. She seemed so much more human to him. He realized that was a silly thing to think, but he was sure others must have felt the same about her. She seemed so emotionless most of the time, even when she was angry her face remained cold and her eyes reserved, which can actually be terribly frightening. Last year, he would have thought Graces Malfoy incapable of becoming flustered, which was something reserved for people like him who were already uncomfortable in their own skin, not people like Graces Malfoy, who walked through a crowded noisy hall and somehow had the ability to, without saying a word, part the sea of people, and walk through completely untouched.

The rest of Neville's afternoon seemed boring in comparison to this morning. He played a few games of exploding snaps with Harry and Ron, worked on a potions essay with a, thankfully, very patient Hermione and then before he knew it, it was time for lunch.

Neville, for the first time in weeks, did not stare over at the Slytherin table at Graces, because Graces was not there for him to stare at. He wondered where she could possibly be. Draco and all the other Slytherins were accounted for, so she was must have been alone. Neville couldn't think of a single person from another house she would be with.

"Something the matter Nev?" Ginny asked, helping herself to the plate of sandwiches in front of her.

"No, why?"

"You just seem distracted is all," Ginny shrugged.

"Yeah, come to think of it you _were_ really distracted when we were working on your essay," Hermione chimed in placing her charms book down on the table, "It was as if you weren't listening to me at all, at some points. You were worse than Ron and Harry on a quidditch day. Usually I don't have to repeat myself to you."

Neville blushed and apologized to Hermione for not being as attentive. He really did appreciate that she helped him with potions and felt badly that he had not been paying close enough attention. Hermione just waved her hand, like the apology was completely unnecessary, before narrowing her eyes and demanding to know what was distracting him.

Neville was not about to tell Ginny or Hermione what was really going on in his head so he decided to tell them half the truth instead. "Well... You see Malfoy-"

"Of course it would be a Malfoy! What did that git do now?" Ginny asked affronted.

"No... Not Draco, and-"

"Is Graces Malfoy giving you problems Nev?" Hermione asked concerned, "Because if that is so, I am sure Professor Sprout would let you switch partners or work alone. You are her favorite."

"Graces Malfoy has not done a single thing," Neville defended, looking over at his friends imploringly for them to believe him, "She just told me this morning that she is worried about some browning on our plants. I checked it and didn't see anything to worry about, but I guess I just keep thinking about it."

"I'm sure even if there was something wrong you could handle it, Neville," Hermione said matter of factly, "If this was a potion you were brewing I would understand your apprehension, but you are quite the genius when it comes to herbology."

Neville blushed bashfully at the compliment, before awkwardly excusing himself from the table. He headed over to the Greenhouse to check on the plants, wondering if Malfoy would be meeting him there. As he walked to the back, where their plant was, he was surprised to see that not only was she there, it looked as though she never left.

She was sitting at a small desk with parchment and books from her other classes sprawled before her and tea pot along with cooling a cup of tea set to the side. The plants were right at her desk, where she could look up at them whenever she wanted. She was currently reading a chapter for their History of Magic class that they would not be covering for another week. She didn't seem to notice his presence though, she just continued to read, wisps of her platinum hair falling delicately as she sucked on her sugar quill, pausing once in awhile to make a quick note here or there on a piece of parchment. She looked so lovely and peaceful he forgot for a moment who exactly she was; it was hard to think of this angelic creature, that had a soft expression on her face, as her eyes danced across text, as the same stony faced girl he saw in the corridors.

And then, as though she sensed that she was no longer alone, she looked up and those soft eyes and sweet face were replaced at once with cold ones and a rigid, domineering mask. She sat there for a moment, not moving from her seat, still slightly leaning on the desk, before slowly bringing herself upright.

"Do you always stare Longbottom?" she sneered, "I suppose if I was always in the company of Gryffindors, I would forget manners as well."

Neville pinked slightly before stumbling through an apology, which Graces just rolled her eyes at and ignored.

"The browning has not spread, you were correct when you said it was nothing."

Neville nodded awkwardly, "Have... have you been here all day?"

"The day is not over, so clearly not," Graces replied icily, "I have finished our paper on the medicinal uses of Hellebore. If you would like, you can review it and add anything you wish, but I believe it is more than sufficient."

Neville frowned, "I would have helped you write that."

The blonde girl in front of him just shrugged and handed him the parchment. Neville looked down at the elegantly penned script and couldn't think of anything to add. He stood there reading it for a few minutes before sighing and handing it back.

"I really wish you wouldn't have done all of the work. I don't even feel right putting my name on this now."

"Gryffindor nobility," Graces scoffed as she looked back down at her book.

Neville knew that he had been dismissed, but couldn't seem to leave. He was angry that she had done that whole paper. They were supposed to be partners in this assignment, he could have easily wrote the whole paper himself as well, but hadn't so that she could be involved. They were now already doing the active work with the plant together. He felt useless and this was the one class he had where he was far from.

"I like doing well in this class. I like that for one class I am not dimwitted, helpless Neville Longbottom that everyone refers to as barely a wizard. I enjoy getting my paper back with good marks when I barely had to try to write it and working in the practical aspect of the class with no help from Hermione. And you... you, ugh."

"I what?" Graces asked coldly, now staring at the boy in front of her shutting her book.

Neville faltered from his rant at the frosty look he was getting. "Nothing... Never mind."

"Come come Longbottom, it would appear that you have developed a spine, and I am very interested in how you were going to finish that sentence."

"You took that away from me!" Neville blurted out unable to stop himself. He felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum and looked away in embarrassment, before quickly leaving the greenhouse.

Neville lay staring up at his the ceiling from his bed. He had been laying there for hours upon hours, brooding. He didn't even bother to go to dinner, he was still so angry. So now there he was, in the middle of the night, frustrated over Graces Malfoy. He had, for weeks, been trying to find redeeming qualities in a girl, that seemed to have none. He felt so naïve. Maybe he just saw what he wanted to see in her. It wasn't like she was ever kind or gentle. _It's because she is pretty. I must have just given her the halo effect; I probably just didn't want to think that such a beauty could turn into ugly when she opens her mouth. _Now he just felt stupid and vain. He hated how cutting her words were to him. If anything, they felt more hurtful than the nastier things Draco would say and do to him. It wasn't like the ways the others would call him spineless and taunt him, it was different. She didn't use her words to hurt him, instead she would say much less meaningful words, she could really be saying anything, but say it in such a way that every word she delivered cut, like a real pain. The chilling look in her eyes was enough to make anyone squirm, to say the least.

He began to feel restless. He was tired, but unable to find sleep, and listening to the peaceful snores from the rest of his dorm mates was just making him feel more disgruntled, when usually he would've found it to be soothing. He finally decided to just go to the greenhouse; he would have spent the day in there working with plants if he didn't think Graces was going to stay there all day. He loved working with plants, it was relaxing, in a way. It always seemed to calm him down, let him think more clearly. The whole reason why he never brooded was because he usually had the greenhouse as an outlet. It was well past curfew, but he felt it would be worth a detention if he could just make it there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were always about the castle past curfew and they never seemed to have trouble; he just prayed that some of their luck had rubbed off on him.

Neville breathed in a sigh of relief when he made it past Mrs. Norris and into the greenhouse. He decided it best not to turn on any lights; the moon was out tonight and there was plenty of light for him to work with. He started walking over to the back of the room to check on his plant and almost jumped out of his skin to find someone was already there.

"Hullo Longbottom," Graces giggled sitting on a blanket with a bottle of firewhisky clutched in her hands.

"Malfoy?! WH-what are you doing here?" he whispered urgently.

"Drinking," Graces said simply taking another swig from the bottle and grimacing at the burning strength.

"I can see that," he said annoyed, but then asked astonished, "are...are you drunk?"

"Hmmmm I think I am. Just a little bit though. Would you care for some?" Graces asked politely, holding the bottle up.

"Uh..."

"Oh come now, Longbottom. I do hate drinking alone," she insisted, reminding Neville of Hermione when she wanted company in the library.

"Wouldn't you rather drink with... well... um, your friends?"

Graces just laughed melodically. "Well I didn't want to drink with Pansy because whenever I do, she just starts going on and on about how sexy Draco is and how she would give her whole vault in Gringotts to have just one night with him," Graces wrinkled her nose and cringed, "Not really something a sister wants to hear. I love drinking with Blaize, you know Zambini, but unfortunately for me, he turned in early tonight. And, oh, I just can't stand drinking with the other girls in my house; they can't hold their liquor at all. Millicent doesn't fancy drinking. She doesn't like not being in control, you see. It's a Slytherin thing. None of us drink often. I can't drink with the other boys in my house because they will just try to get in my knickers, but you won't will you Longbottom?" Graces winked, "It's all against your Gryffindor nobility right? Can't take advantage of intoxicated girls. I bet you still wouldn't do it even if you had one right there in your bed begging you to take her would you?" Her words were beginning to slur and she hiccuped.

Neville blushed and decided to ignore the question. "What about your brother?"

Graces smile faltered for a moment and took a large swig of the amber liquid she was holding. "Draco is the reason I am drinking," she said sadly looking down into the bottle.

Neville could never fully understand why he did it, maybe it was because he wanted to see more of smiling happy Graces Malfoy, or maybe it was because he couldn't stand how small she looked, sitting on the ground sadly, at the mention of her brother, but he sat down next to her and took the bottle in his hands and took a slow and deliberate swig. The fire whisky burned going down his throat and he coughed and sputtered, but when he looked up, Graces was smiling radiantly at him and he felt his heart flutter and he knew it wasn't the whisky's doing.

"See Longbottom, the world didn't end because you had a drink with a Malfoy," she said nudging her shoulder into him playfully.

"Who would have thought Malfoys made such happy drunks," Neville teased.

"Well," Graces whispered excitedly "it is one of our best kept family secrets."

"Is it now?" Neville whispered back continuing the play.

"Yes, you should be much honored that I want to drink with you Mr. Longbottom," Graces laughed taking another swig.

Neville chuckled at that statement before asking playfully, "And how exactly was I deemed so worthy of such a privilege?"

Graces shrugged, "I like you well enough to enjoy your company, even if you are a blood traitor."

Neville's eyebrows about shot up to his hairline at that statement, "You enjoy my company? You must be more drunk than I thought."

Graces just laughed at the boy's expression, "I am probably more drunk than you thought, but I do enjoy your company. I'm secretly very happy that we're partners in herbology, at first I was glad because you are a genius. When it comes to the practical part of the subject and I am horrid, unlike you, but I must admit, you have grown on me Longbottom."

"Well," Neville began astonished, "I would have never guessed that. You sure don't act like you like me."

"Come on, Longbottom! I can't very well act like I enjoy your company can I? You still are a blood traitor and a Gryffindor. And in case you haven't noticed, I am not about wearing my emotions on my sleeve, buuuuut I like you. You are able to hold an intelligent conversation and aren't pushy or too talkative…. And well… I appreciate that you… cared? … yes, cared that you hurt my feelings."

"So, I did hurt your feelings?" Neville asked quietly.

Graces smiled softly, "Well despite the rumors, I am not made out of stone."

"I...I am sorry for that."

Graces waved her hands dismissively, "Nothing I haven't heard before. I'm a Slytherin, we're a tough house. No one likes us," She then became quiet for a moment, "I'm sorry for earlier by the way. I had done the paper to thank you, I didn't think about how much you liked working on papers."

"To thank me? For what?"

Graces blushed a pretty shade of pink. "You know for helping me with the plant, being willing to deal with me on your weekend. I know I was being rather … well I wasn't behaving as a Malfoy should."

Neville smiled, he hadn't thought that Graces had done the assignment to thank him.

"Longbottom, you really need to drink more, being drunk alone isn't nearly as fun. And I am very curious as to what kind of drunk you are."

Neville took a few generous swigs at the blonde's command, before handing the bottle back.

"I have no clue what kind of drunk I am," the sandy haired boy stated, leaning back on a sack of soil, "I've never been drunk before."

"You're kidding," Graces said skeptically, "I hear you Gryffindors have giant parties every time you beat us at a quidditch match."

"Yes, but I don't get sloshed at them."

"Why?"

"I don't know... I don't want to embarrass myself anymore than I already do on a regular basis."

Graces giggled at his confession. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Does Slytherin have parties together?"

"Not really. None of us are usually willing to let our guard down in front of the whole house like that. We did drink all of us together last year when you noble lot went to the Ministry, but… we weren't drinking to have a party. It definitely was not fun like parties should be. We just... we were all so worried you know? Scared for our parents and all. Say what you will about the Slytherin house, but when it counts we stand together. We just drank and waited for news. We even let the first years drink, figured they should be allowed to drown their worries as well. Snape was great; he came in and ignored the bottles delivered the news and left. We all made makeshift beds and just slept together in a great mass in the middle of the floor. Then when morning came, everyone was tactful enough to pretend nothing had happened."

Neville sat silently, he had never considered what it was like for the children of death eaters. He imagined first years crying curled up in older years arms as the older ones tried to look strong, while, in reality, they were just as scared, just as worried, and hurting just as much. He wondered if Graces held any frightened children, she was a prefect after all, or if she and Draco curled up in a corner and sought comfort in one another. Maybe it was a combination of both. He knew what he did in the ministry was the right thing; he didn't regret putting her father in jail and fighting him, her aunt, and the other death eaters, but he did feel a new found pity for the children of those individuals. He wondered how Graces reacted when Snape told her and Draco that their father was going to Azkaban; how she felt going home for the summer and not having him there.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't apologize for things that are not your fault, Longbottom, it's beneath you. You did what you thought was right and my father did the same. He got caught and a jury sentenced him; the only thing you did was fight him in the Ministry where he ambushed you."

"Your brother doesn't seem to feel that way."

"Draco is... dealing with things that … well… Draco is under a lot of pressure at the moment. And… well he blames you lot..." Graces was quiet for awhile taking slow sips from the bottle clearly lost in some memory. "The Dark Lord punished him for our father's failure."

Neville stared at Graces, horrified by her last statement. He couldn't even fully process what that meant. "Why are you telling me this?"

Graces looked up with her sad eyes that had begun to glisten with unwept tears. "I don't know. Maybe because I am drunk, scared, and have no one I really can tell. Or maybe it's because you have kind eyes and I know you won't tell anyone no matter what. I... I don't know, but I know I want to forget all of that right now. So please just drink and help me forget."

Neville did as he was told and racked his mind for a change of subject. A way to get the vibrant girl he had witnessed back.

"Why are you taking herbology? No offense, but you don't strike me as the gardening type."

"No offense taken at all. I have to take this class in order to get into a healer program."

"I didn't know you wanted to be a healer."

Graces giggled, "Well of course you wouldn't, how would you?"

"Healer Malfoy… It does have a ring to it."

"Doesn't it!? I've wanted to be a healer ever since I can remember, father doesn't want me to be, he would rather me and Draco took over the family business together. He thinks it is below me."

Neville laughed at that statement. "Below you? My gran would die of joy if I went home and told her I was going to be a healer or an auror. She isn't big on me being a herbologist."

"Really?" The blonde asked astonished, "You could make a good living being a herbologist. Start a business with exotic plants and sell them to medicinal potions companies. You're very good, better than Professor Sprout; you could easily have a successful business and become a wealthy man."

"If there was any doubt in my mind as to why you were sorted into Slytherin, you just obliviated it Miss. Malfoy. I never even thought of having my very own business."

"Well you should, Longbottom. You know if you adopt any Slytherin ideals, it should be our ambition," she looked up at Neville critically for a few moments before continuing, "or maybe it should be our confidence and ability to not jump into a dangerous situation without a plan."

"Plans? Ha! Who needs plans? We mighty Gryffindors don't need such things! Why rely on a plan, when you can just continue to rely on miracles?" Neville joked, warmly playing off his house's stereotype.

Graces rolled her eyes. "Gryffindors, brave to the point of stupidity. You know your miracles will run out eventually and then where will you be? Dead."

Neville took another swig, ignoring that his mind already felt cloudy as it was, and leaned closer to the girl sitting next to him. "Will you cry at my funeral Miss Malfoy?"

Graces scoffed and pushed him away playfully, "Why would I cry at a blood traitor's funeral? And why in the name of Merlin would I be attending one in the first place?"

"Ah, but you already admitted that you enjoyed my company, despite the fact that I am a blood traitor," Neville teased passing the bottle over.

Graces ignored him and just downed more of the bottle. "I'm drunk. I can't be held responsible for what I say," she finally said offhandedly, as Neville stared at her in amusement, "Stop smirking Longbottom it doesn't suit you. Gryffindors don't smirk."

"Yes well, Gryffindors also do not get sloshed with Slytherins, but that didn't stop me."

Graces giggled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I bet I can name some of your precious Gryffindor boys that wouldn't mind drinking with me."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he was a hot blooded teenage boy, but the Neville looked at the girl next to him and couldn't help but see that she was breathtaking. Graces Malfoy was a stunningly beautiful girl there was no denying that, and Neville was not dim enough to have not noticed that fact before this impromptu meeting. She had seductively, full pink lips that any man would have loved to devour passionately in dark corners of the castle. Long, waist length golden hair, so light it was practically white, and was purer than sunlight, as it framed around a delicate collarbone. She had figure that, even covered under a school uniform, couldn't hide its perfection. Yet, even with all that, there were no words in the world to describe how radiantly beautiful she was when she was smiling.

Neville leaned over so that his lips were mere inches away from the blonde's, "Who said I minded?"

And before she could retort, he brought his lips down onto hers and was surprised when her lips parted, immediately, and she pulled him in closer.

**Author's notes: Next chapter is rated M! So fair warning! Also please comment and review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary: AU. OC: Graces Malfoy, Draco's twin sister. Neville, with his usual bad luck, ends up partners with Graces Malfoy for Herbology, just after landing her father in Azkaban, after the Ministry ordeal. Will this partnership prove to be as awful as it sounds? 6th year. Rated M for sexual content.**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Rated M for sexual content and language**

**Author's note: This scene is definitely rated M. Also I want to thank my beta Arthurdent2 who was amazing when it came to helping me figure out how to write this scene. (I had never written a sex scene before and my first attempt was a total disaster) Hopefully you will all be happy with my final attempt though! Please review and follow the story!**

Chapter 3

If someone had told Neville that he would ever kiss Graces Malfoy, he would have taken them to Madam Pomphrey, insisting that they had been badly confunded. Yet, there he was kissing Graces Malfoy and he could not remember a time where he felt more incredible; the first time he did magic, getting his Hogwarts letter, being placed in Gryffindor, being awarded the winning house points first year, and so goes on the list. Nothing could top the feelings he was experiencing now. Nothing could beat kissing Graces, because kissing Graces was a whole different kind of magic.

He didn't know why, maybe it was how sweet her lips tasted, how soft her skin was, or maybe it was how delicious she smelled, but something about the girl in his arms made him forget everything. He was so lost in the sea of sensations, that was Graces, and in that abyss of pleasure that only she could cause. He forgot himself. He didn't feel awkward in his own skin or have the need to overthink himself. He, for once in his life, felt comfortable in his own skin, and was not worrying about what others did or thought. It was only him and Graces in that moment together. Even his magic moved under his skin animatedly, as though it had never been truly awaken before, and all from the simple act of pressing his dry lips to her soft ones.

When they finally did break apart, their chests both heaving from the exhilaration, their faces flushed with emotions they had both never experienced, they just sat there, inches apart, just gazing into each other's eyes for what felt like hours. Her pupils were so dilated that you could barely see her grey irises, and he realized he probably looked the same. Neville would never in his lifetime be able to say who moved first, it could have been him, Graces, or both of them, but before either of them knew what was happening, they were rolling on the floor of the greenhouse kissing each other, again, with such passion and intensity that both were becoming more and more undone.

Neville didn't know or care about when his night robe had been removed and he shivered with pleasure as Graces hands snaked underneath his night shirt. He moved to be more on top of her, not knowing when he had become so daring. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was just testosterone, either way, but he didn't care, all he could think about was her. He couldn't remember ever wanting anyone more than he wanted the girl currently underneath him. He brought his lips down onto her elegant neck and ravished every sensitive spot he could find, causing Graces to quietly moan with pleasure as he continued to use his lips and tongue to explore her body. Neville, until this point in his life, had never realized a simple sound could affect him so much physically.

As Graces continued pulling him into her, winding her slender fingers through his hair, and holding him close, Neville in the back of his mind, realized that he had never once felt he needed to touch someone, this way, not really. It had never been something he had put priority in, even when the other boys in his dormitories would talk about it. He never really was that interested, but now he felt as though it was essential to his livelihood to be as close to Graces as humanly possible. He was burning with the desire to feel her skin on his, to make her feel as hopelessly lost in pleasure as he currently was.

His hands fumbled with the buttons on her blouse as he persistently kissed her breathlessly. Every touch, kiss, taste, sensation didn't feel like it was enough to sooth the fire that was now raging inside of him, and judging by the way Graces was wiggling beneath him tugging at his shirt to come off, it wasn't for her either. He had known what he wanted and where all of this was heading, but it wasn't until he ran his hand down her naval lower, caressing her to the point where he was right between her legs, and had touched her most private area, feeling her arousal as she convulsed slightly around his finger, did it all become real to him.

"Wait," Neville panted, pulling himself off the one person in the world he desired most, "you're drunk... I'm drunk. Maybe… maybe this isn't the best of ideas."

Graces stared at him. She stared at him like she was just now starting to truly _see_ him. It made his skin prickle and his heart flutter. He was so much more exposed to her now than he had been all the other times, and the vulnerability was beginning to weigh on him. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly. He felt like he should say something, explain further, but then Graces sat up and without a word she finished removing her blouse and slowly removed her bra, never taking her silver eyes off the boy in front of her. Neville groaned despondently as Graces' breasts didn't move a bit without the lack of support. It took every bit of self-restraint on his part to not throw proprietary to the wind and take her right there.

He closed his eyes and took a few long breaths to regain his chain of thought. "We can't. We have to-"

Neville didn't have the opportunity to finish his sentence. He heard a hiccup of a sob and looked over to see Graces clutching her mouth, desperately trying not to cry. If ever there was a site more sad, yet beautiful, it was of Graces weeping naked on the floor of the greenhouse. She looked like an angel who had lost her wings. Broken on the floor, but still lovely even in shatters. Finally, she looked up from her open palms, her clouded, liquid mercury eyes, glistening with restrained tears, as the moonlight danced along her body, making him believe that, for a moment, that she truly was a divine being that had fallen from grace.

"Please Longbottom," she said in the most desperate of whispers, that caused Neville to reach out towards her and pull her into him comfortingly.

"I.. I can't," Neville whispered gently, almost wistful, "it wouldn't be right."

Graces curled into him and wept, "I just need to forget, just for a little while, just for one night. I need to forget." When she looked up at him, Neville saw her tears falling against her cheek before cascading down onto his chest; each drop that hit against him giving testimony to her pain. Pain he didn't know the source of, pain so complicated that he couldn't comprehend, and pain that he knew she would never give him reason to. All she was willing to accept from him was physical comfort. He wished that she could cry into his chest and tell him all of her worldly woes, but he knew she wouldn't.

He, still unsure of what to do, leaned forwards and kissed her forehead, cheek, chin, ear, trying to comfort her, trying to give her what she wanted, without taking advantage of her. Then, he finally found her lips but he kissed her so softly, so gently, deciding to give her anything she asked of him, but to do it in a caring manner, neither pushing nor denying her. He gently tightened his arms around her small form and kissed her in ways that he prayed gave her comfort and made her feel secure. He kissed her slowly leaving the lustful passion out and replacing it with gentle affection, before tenderly laying her back down. She timidly began removing the rest of her clothes as Neville did the same. He never took his eyes off hers though; he kept searching for any hint of hesitation. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was filled with a million different feelings, all at once. He couldn't believe this was happening, that this was real. He was terrified and overjoyed at the same time.

He looked down at the porcelain skin, before him running his hand gently over her, "As soft as rose petals" he quietly whispered more to himself than the girl lying before him, but she heard and was blushing nervously. He positioned himself to her side propping himself on his arm to look down at her. "I..I've never..."

Graces blushed a deeper shade of pink and looked away. "Me neither..."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you," he said softly caressing her cheek and turning her to face him.

Her gray eyes looked imploringly up at him. "You're not though. I want this, with you."

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Everything in Graces head was screaming that this was a bad idea. Neville Longbottom was a Gryffindor, a blood traitor, friend/dorm mate of Harry Potter, had made his allegiance known when he battled in the Ministry, had aided in catching her father and sending him to Azkaban, and that was without mentioning that he was the school idiot. Yet, despite how many times she reminded herself of all those things, she didn't care. Her world was falling apart everywhere she turned, her father was in Azkaban, her family were no longer in Voldemort's exclusive group of only his closest followers, which they had given so much to be a part of, her mother was so distraught she barely knew what to do, and her brother was being forced to do a task that the Dark Lord knew he was destined to fail. Draco was going to die this year, and there was nothing she could do. That was the greatest punishment for her father's failure. It was always weighing on her mind that she was going to lose everyone she held dear, in this war. The only way she saw that she could have her family back, was for Draco to succeed at his mission putting their family back in Voldemort's inner circle as he rose to power, then all the death eaters being released from Azkaban, giving her father back.

She wished countless times a day that she was someone else. Someone that could just break down and cry her eyes out and be comforted. Someone who could hold tight to her brother and beg him not to do what needed to be done, so they could just run away from this nightmare and never look back. But she wasn't someone else. She was a Malfoy, and as a Malfoy she would hold strong against this storm until the winds broke her, so that she could no longer stand tall against them. Draco would die trying to save them, just as she would stand beside him until the bitter end.

She however, despite her best efforts to be strong, felt herself breaking to the point where she decided that tonight she did needed to break down. So she finished her perfect rounds for the night and snuck into the greenhouse to enjoy a night of drinking. She had been drinking for well over an hour when she heard the greenhouse door open and Neville Longbottom showed up.

If she had been sober when Longbottom had arrived, she would have demanded he leave hours ago; she would have seen that being alone with him drinking in the middle of the night was a horrible idea. She already knew that being around him was not good for her. She wanted desperately to push him away, to be awful towards him so that he would stop looking at her with those kind, compassionate eyes that made her think she was safe. Feeling safe with Neville Longbottom was the sort stupidity that could get her killed.

That thought alone should have kept her from being friendly towards the boy, but Graces couldn't bring herself to feel wary in Neville's presence. If her initial plan would have ensued she would have drank until she blacked out; she would have gotten a night's rest without nightmares of her family and her being tortured. No matter what she did, it was always on her mind: when she got dressed, did her homework, ate, was with friends, or slept, she was always haunted by her fears and always unable to show it. And then Longbottom showed up and for a moment it was all placed in the back of her head, not a loud presence that she had to ignore, it was truly placed in the back of her thoughts. And all she seemed able to focus on was that this boy, that, in her six years of Hogwarts, that was always there, but she never truly noticed, was no longer the puggy pureblood that could barely carry on a sentence without stuttering like a blubbering idiot. And if she was honest with herself, which she rarely was when it came to this subject, she hadn't though it him in that way for a long while. His baby fat was slowly leaving him and he even seemed to hold his head up higher than before, though he still, for the most part, tried not to be seen. She was unsure of when she started looking at Neville, but the fact remained she had been looking, and soon after looking came noticing. She realized his features becoming more and more defined, less awkward, and more handsome. He was still by no means handsome enough to turn heads, but she saw that there was the potential for that, buried just under the surface. She could no longer deny it, and despite how many times she reminded herself who he was, and who she was, when he kissed her all remaining thoughts of logic left her and there was just him.

Nothing in the world could have prepared her for what happened when Neville's lips touched hers. All at once nothing mattered anymore. All that mattered was how glorious he made her feel and how magnificent he tasted. All sense of reality melted away. No one had ever kissed her like this, with so much passion and ferocious need; he didn't just kiss her like he wanted to claim her, he kissed her like he needed her, like she was the only witch in his world for him. For some reason or another, she had been kissing him in much the same manner.

And so here she was, lying naked on the ground, with Neville Longbottom, but she didn't feel vulnerable or scared. How could she with the way he was caressing her skin like he was trying to memorize every inch of it with touch alone? Or when he was kissing her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and looking at her as though she was the Gods' gift to humanity?

Graces closed her eyes in anticipation as she felt his hand move to go between her legs; her skin prickling in excitement as Neville continued to kiss her neck softly. Then suddenly, Neville moved lower so that he was caressing her breast with his lips, letting his tongue dance wickedly on her awakened nipples as his fingers finally found their way to her sex. She couldn't stop herself from moaning endlessly as his hands and tongue made her desperate to have him inside her. "You are exquisite Miss. Malfoy," he moaned huskily, "I just want to taste every inch of you." And the Gryffindor, to Graces' great pleasure, proceeded to do just that; Neville was kissing between her breasts, letting his tongue trail down to her naval, planting open mouth kisses on her ribs, before nibbling gently on her hips.

Between the ways he was devouring her body and what his hands were doing between her legs Graces was on the edge. She could feel her climax coming on, her muscles inside her tightening around his fingers, and the heat spreading like wildfire through her blood. And then to her great frustration, he stopped.

"Please. Don't stop," Graces whimpered, praying desperately that he hadn't changed his mind; that he hadn't realized that this was a mistake.

Neville just chuckled and gently started kissing the inside of her leg nibbling every once in a while as he continued to trail up. Graces realized, horrified, what he was about to do.

"No!" Graces exclaimed mortified beyond reason. "You can't."

Neville frowned, but stopped, moving so that he was hovering over her eye level. "I.. uh I thought that.. well.. Wouldn't you like that?" The sandy haired boy blushed scarlet and looked away for a moment, suddenly becoming very interested in the ceiling. "I … uh .. heard that umm girls liked that."

"It's unnecessary," Graces replied peevishly, "you really don't have to."

Neville bit his lip for a moment, clearly debating if he should continue this conversation. "I.. I want to." It must have been pretty obvious from the look on Graces' face that she did not believe him, because he smiled shyly and leaned forwards to kiss her. "If you don't like it, I'll stop, but… I would like to try."

Graces felt as though the air around her had thickened, there was this sort of stillness that had settled around her and Neville, as though time had stopped just for them. She felt as though her whole world was hanging on this moment and she could feel her body shaking with the intensity of it. Neville seeing her hesitation, nuzzled her neck with nose, gently kissing her, while at the same time allowing his hands to continue their work. "Trust me," he pleaded as he moved lower.

And for some reason unknown to her, Graces did. She stared up at the ceiling too nervous to watch as Neville continued to kiss her lower and lower, gently widening her legs, but the fact was she was allowing him to do it. She didn't feel comfortable with much physical contact, most of the time she had to force herself to allow a simple hug, and yet she was allowing a boy she barely knew to know her in the most biblical of senses. Yet, it didn't feel wrong or make her unsettled. She really did, for whatever reason, feel comfortable. Most of her humility at the moment stemmed from herself, as she worried over what Neville would think.

She felt his breath ghost over her and was about to lose her courage; telling Neville it was too embarrassing and she thought maybe she could just move him away, but all thoughts of that ended the moment she felt his tongue brush over her. Graces never knew that anything could feel that good. If she had been in her right state of mind, she would have been utterly ashamed of the noises that came from her mouth as Neville continued to relentlessly dance his tongue between her velvety lips. Neville however, could not be more thrilled at the sounds coming from Graces. Every small gasp she made, every moan was affecting Neville just as much as his tongue was affecting her. He reached up with one of his calloused hands and claimed her breast, running his thumb tenderly over the soft skin, overwhelming her body with sensation.

Graces closed her eyes as the sensations coursed through her, clouding her mind with ecstasy. She could feel herself contracting and knew she was about to give over. She squirmed with diversion, unable to keep herself still for what was coming. She didn't even realize that her hands had at some point wrapped themselves in Neville's sandy hair. She opened her eyes as she felt his hand leave her chest and watched as Neville began stroking himself while continuing to do even more wicked things with his tongue. The sight of Neville tasting and smelling her arousal and becoming so turned on by it that he had to touch himself, sent the Slytherin over the edge. She was so lost in her sea of pleasure that she did not even realize she was calling out to the gods, as her back arched as she trembled violently, her body losing all control, as the pressure that had been rising up inside of her finally reached its peak in an explosion of heat and pleasure that crashed into her again and again like waves on a shore.

She had never in her life been so relaxed, her head floating on a cloud somewhere in the sky along with the rest of her body. She wondered idly if she should say something, thank Longbottom or ask what made him, or how he knew, to do all_ that,_ but she couldn't seem to move, let alone speak and ask questions. She was so euphoric, she found that she didn't really care.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about Graces," Neville murmured as he kissed the neck of the exhausted girl before him, "you taste heavenly." Graces just giggled in response, not even bothering to open her eyes, she just laid there for a few minutes catching her breath, before turning over to Neville. He was just staring down at her smiling softly, letting a hand idly run through her hair.

It was odd how much she felt like she needed him at this moment. She could feel her magic pushing against her skin to be closer to him and even after her climax; she still felt the fever flushing throughout her, and the ache between her legs that demanded something that, up until now, she never knew she wanted. Sex had never been something she was interested in, not really, even when she was dating someone seriously, she never quite wanted him in the way she wanted Neville now. It wasn't that she didn't think she would enjoy the physical pleasantries that came with the intimacy, she just never could seem to get over having such intimacy with another person. And yet there she was, looking up into Neville's soft eyes, wanting nothing more than to give herself to him.

"You're not done, are you?" she inquired, confused as to why he had stopped and was just holding her.

"I'm giving you the opportunity to change your mind," Neville said carefully, "not that I don't want to, I just… well... we don't have to."

Graces knew that she was being given the opportunity to turn back and that she should probably take it while she could, but she couldn't bring herself to. "I.. I really meant what I said. I want this with you," she looked up nervously for a moment a new thought occurring to her, "that is... if you want this with me, of course."

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Neville was completely clueless as to why Graces Malfoy would want_ this _with _him_, but apparently she did. He considered actually telling her that, of course he wanted this with her, that at this point he would rather lose his wand hand than not experience being with her, but he stopped himself, deciding that anything he said would come out a stuttering mess. Nodding, he reached over for his wand to cast a contraceptive charm, but was stopped by Graces gently taking it out of his hands.

"No offense Longbottom," Graces began hesitantly offering him a small smile, "but as amazing you are with your hands and tongue. Your wand work isn't nearly as good."

The Gryffindor couldn't find it in him to be offended; if anything he was a bit relieved seeing as he had never set the charm himself. Usually if he botched a spell he just had to spend a couple hours with Madam Pomphrey or replace an item, but if he somehow managed to do this one incorrectly, the consequences would be far greater. So, he let her set the charm and bit back a chuckle when she did it again for good measure.

"Don't laugh at me Longbottom," Graces scolded playfully, "this is very important. We don't want little Longbottoms running around."

Neville just laughed awkwardly, as he was becoming increasingly more aware of himself. He was beginning to reel with horror, as he realised that he had no idea what he was doing. Sure he had read a few dirty magazine articles here and there, thanks to Seamus, Ron, and Dean, and he was not so sheltered as to ignore locker room talk, but actually physically being with a woman and dreaming of being with a woman were two very different things. Suddenly, he was imagining a whole slew of things that he could do wrong. This was Graces' first time, what if he did it all wrong? For the rest of her life she would remember how awful her first time was and it would be all his fault. He was just on the edge of panicking, when he felt a soft hand on his chest bringing him back to earth.

"I won't know the difference," Graces comforted, moving her hand to delicately brush the fringe from his face. Neville gazed down at the breathtaking girl looking up at him with such trust and vulnerability. Trust and vulnerability he knew she didn't offer freely.

"It... it will hurt," he warned still looking for any signs of hesitation, "are you sure? Are you sure you want me to be the one to.. well.. to deflower you?"

"Deflower?" Graces sniggered, "Did you just say deflower?" Neville blushed and was about to begin babbling when Graces erupted with laughter. "I don't know if you have spent too much time in the garden or too much time with your gran! My father doesn't even say deflower!"

Neville dropped his head utterly humiliated, out of all the times for him to say something embarrassing, he chose now to be the time. "I… I was… I was just trying to make a point," Neville muttered still unable to look at the girl below him, who had finally stopped her cackling, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm sure you will be gentle," Graces contended, softly leaning up to kiss him, "gentler than most even."

"You could have anyone..." Neville continued.

"I don't want anyone. I want _you._" Graces stressed as she seductively began moving her hand down Neville's chest, making his breath hitch as all thoughts of denying her slowly left him. "Adorable you, who says words like deflowering. I want _you_." It was such a simple phrase, such a simple emotion, to want, but never before had he thought that someone could want him. He was the guy that stumbled out of bed in the morning, forgot his homework, spilled his juice in the great hall, blew up his cauldron in potions, could barely speak without stuttering, and became frightened at just the sight of greasy hair and black robes. Neville was not the guy that girls typically wanted. And yet, he believed Graces when she said she wanted him. Part of it was because he so desperately needed to believe that someone could want him and the other part was the way she was looking at him. He had always wanted to be looked at like this; looked at in a way that made him believe that he was actually being seen.

He carefully lowered his body onto her, so that they were chest to chest and nose to nose. "Any time you want to stop just tell me, okay?"

"Okay," Graces promised leaning up and kissing him while at the same time reaching down and positioning him correctly for what was to come, "no more of this. I'm sure. I want you."

He nodded and with a nervous, yet excited look, slowly, Neville sank into her, making sure to be as careful and gentle as possible. He couldn't help but hiss with pleasure at how tight she was around him. He wanted more than anything to just thrust the rest of the way in, but he controlled himself. He knew this was hurting her, he could feel her body protesting the invasion and the tearing skin around him giving testimony to her innocence. Graces whimpered beneath him clutching his shoulders tightly with both hands and closing her eyes against the pain.

"Just relax," Neville muttered tightly, "it will be over soon, just relax." He gently caressed her face and kissed her cheeks, ignoring that she was turning away from him. He understood, she was in pain and resented that he wasn't. Neville prayed that she wouldn't ask to stop, his body ached to have her so painfully, that he now understood what it meant to want someone so badly that it hurt. After a few moments he felt her settle around him, and being unable to wait any longer he pushed himself the rest of the way in.

Graces gasped at the pain, and Neville stilled once again, not wanting to hurt her anymore than was necessary. "Are you okay? Do you…do you want to stop?" Neville asked concern and strain etched in his face.

Graces looked up seeing very clearly that Neville did not want to stop, that stopping his movements now was a great strain on him. She couldn't believe he was inside her, it was thrilling and frightening to her all at once. It also made her blush scarlet.

"Yes, I'm fine. It…it feels good and hurts. Does that make sense?"

Neville smiled, "It just feels incredible for me."

Graces grinned shyly, "I'm ready now."

After a few awkward minutes of fumbled motions and nervous laughter they both began moving more confidently; each learning what to do to make the experience more pleasurable for the other. Neville watched captivated as Graces' breath quickened and her full lips parted eliciting the most erotic of sounds. It was so amative for the awkward Gryffindor to see, someone as beautiful as Graces Malfoy, enjoy being with him in the most intimate of ways.

Neville decided that there could not be anything that felt nearly as remarkable as being with this girl. He cautiously moved his hips in small circular motions, taking in the feel of her warm resistant core around him, before pulling out and then back in moaning uncontrollably after every movement. It wasn't just the physical pleasure either, it was the way she made him feel. He felt wanted, needed, desired, things he had never felt until this moment, and he felt like it was more than just his body that she desired. She could easily have any boy in this school, given her virginity away to someone so much more worthy, but she wasn't with someone else. She was with him and he doubted anyone had ever seen her like this. She was mesmerizing. Her eyes were completely unveiled and Neville couldn't look away from the openness that was being exposed before him. He would never be able to look at her as a cold and emotionless after seeing her eyes like this. This was Graces Malfoy, the real one, what he saw in the halls was just a mask that she utilized to hide and he was fortunate enough to be one of the few blessed to see her remove it. The thought alone set a fire deep in his belly that fueled him forward, until he was now taking her so passionately he was going to give in.

And Graces met his unabated passion just as intensely. For the first time in his existence he felt hopeful, even awestruck, that he could have this, someone who wanted him just as passionately as he wanted them, just as recklessly. Every movement Graces was making, made him believe more and more that this was within his grasp. He felt her legs wrap around him as she clinged to his frame, kissing him demandingly, barely allowing him to come up for air, but he didn't care. Who could care about such trivial things, as air, when Graces Malfoy was kissing him like this? Reminding him of how connected they were at this very moment. He wanted to prolong this feeling forever, he never wanted this to stop, this feeling of being wanted and one with a soul as wonderful and amazing as her. He felt her body still and her core clench around him tightly and then she was begging him to take her, as her slick walls convulsed hard around him. Before he knew it he was taking her so forcefully, that he was lost in the sensation alone. The skin on his groin tingled with anticipation for a few seconds and then he was thrown into what could only be described as sheer ecstasy.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily as he tried to gather himself. He felt so amazing, his whole body was shivering with the aftermath of his release. He had never once experienced anything as mind blowing. He smiled as he realized there were just some things a wand couldn't do. A wand certainly couldn't make up for what he was feeling now laying on top of a beautiful girl, feeling her skin that was glistened with sweat from their endeavors, as he drowned in her sweet scent of pink lilies, lavender, and white cotton. The moment he rolled off her, she snuggled into his chest, burying her head under his neck, releasing a content sigh as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. For the first time in the night, Neville felt a small sting of regret. He wished that he could tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't. It would be a lie and he would not taint what they just did with a lie. He knew that he could love her. He had no doubts that if Graces let him, he could love her. He already felt a tornado of emotions for her and he definitely fancied her, but he didn't love her, not yet.

"I could love you Graces Malfoy. If you just let me, I could love you," Neville whispered into her hair, planting a gentle kiss on her head.

The girl in his arms didn't respond though, she was fast asleep. The sandy haired boy just smiled and listened to her steady breathing against his chest, before letting his heavy lids close as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.

** Author's notes: Graces is pronounced Gray-cees in case anyone was wondering. And I am thrilled to see my list of followers growing! Thank you all so much I shall try not to disappoint! And a special thanks to my beta Aurthurdent2!**

Chapter 4

"Graces? Graces, are you in here?"

Neville woke with a start at hearing an unfamiliar voice, coming from the front of the Greenhouse.

"Graces?"

The person of the hour was now sitting upright her face screwed in horror. "Hide," she hissed as she desperately began grabbing at the ground for her clothes. Neville, throwing on his robes and gathering his clothes, ducked under a table, moving various plants in front of him so he was not to be seen.

"Graces?" the mystery boy's voice was now becoming louder, he was so close Neville could hear his hands brushing against his clothing.

"What?" Graces snapped, fumbling with the buttons on her blouse, as she only buttoned them enough to cover her.

"There you are!" Blaize Zambini emerged from the darkness in dark silk pajamas. "I've been looking for you for an hour."

"What are you doing here? And why are you looking for me? You were fast asleep at eight! At eight! I remember because I could not convince Greg or Vincent to wake you. They each said something about beauty sleep and you not being pleasant." Graces ranted crossley.

"Well I most certainly don't want to be here," Zambini drawled, sitting on the floor next to the blond, his dark skin making them look like night and day, "it's now four in the morning. I much rather be in the dungeons warm in my own bed. Unfortunately, your git of a brother woke me up; rather rudely I might add, at three, demanding that I go look for you."

Graces groaned and her face flushed with anger. "I told him I wanted to be alone tonight! I specifically ordered for him to leave me alone," she whined.

"And he has listened to you, cara mia," Zambini smiled, throwing his arm casually over her; the familiarity causing Neville to grit his teeth as a sting of jealousy coursed through him, "Draco Malfoy is not the one that has come over to you. He has left you alone."

Graces just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in agitation, apparently in no mood for Slytherin logic.

"Merlin's beard Graces! Did you drink all this?" The Slytherin boy exclaimed, picking up the empty bottle of firewhisky and noticing another bottle half drained, near Graces. "No wonder you look so tussled."

"So what if I did," Graces muttered, "it's my business, not yours."

Zambini sat quietly for a few minutes, holding the bottle in one hand his thumb moving over the label. "What are we going to do with you Miss Malfoy?" he asked sadly.

"Nothing. There is nothing to do, just leave me be," Graces answered hollowly, her voice far smaller than it had been originally when talking to her friend.

"Can't," Zambini stated firmly, seeming to snap out of his reverie and bouncing back to the animated figure he was before, "I can't have the future Mrs. Zambini going off in the middle of the night drinking herself into a stupor," he declared winking down at her, "besides with you looking so flush and tousled some bloke may find you and ravage you before I ever get the chance."

"Well I am not the future Zambini, so you can rest easy on that front and there is no way I am letting you ravage me," Graces laughed, standing up shakily before almost side stepping into a desk. Zambini caught her though and swooped her up in his arms cradling her close to his chest.

"Come, come, my love, your brother has probably caused chaos in the dungeons over you. I can't imagine anyone is sleeping with him ranting and pacing."

"No," Graces whimpered, laying her forehead down in the crook of his neck, "let me stay. Please, Blaize."

"No, no, my sweet, that will not work this time. I am returning you to your brother and your bed. I much rather deal with your wrath than his at the moment. You need water, rest, and the infamous Zambini hangover potion, in that order."

"Why can't I have the hangover potion first?" Graces whined.

"My dear, I had to wake up, from a very erotic dream, at three in the morning and deal with a very irate Draco Malfoy because of you. Therefore, I am going to enjoy your pain tomorrow morning before I allow your relief."

"And here I thought you loved me; I thought I was the center of your world," Graces pouted, jokingly.

The dark haired boy just laughed vibrantly at Graces antics and began walking out of the Greenhouse still holding her in his arms despite her protests, "That won't work on me, Graces Malfoy. I have known you far too long."

Neville waited, before wandering back to his own bed. He laid there in the early morning gleam, wondering what Graces relationship with the handsome Slytherin was. He could not shake the sickening jealous feeling that was now burning in his stomach. _Maybe they're just friends. I shouldn't jump to conclusions. She said she wanted me, after all, and their banter was playful and teasing._ He could still smell Graces all over him and comforted himself with the knowledge that she chose to be with him. He smiled as he drifted into slumber, thinking about how that had to be the best night of his life. And he prayed there was more to come.

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Neville silently vowed never to drink again. The Gryffindor's head was pounding so violently his teeth hurt and his stomach felt like it was filled with live slugs. He barely made it to the loo in time to spill out its contents. He wondered idly if this was how Ron Weasley felt second year, when his wand back fired from trying to hex Draco Malfoy.

"Not feeling to great today, eh mate?" Ron asked as Neville reappeared from the bathroom, falling back onto his bed.

"Just peachy, can't you tell?" Neville muttered bitterly, in no mood at all to be teased.

"Where were you last night anyway?" Harry questioned from his bed as he tried to smooth down his mess of a hair, before heading down to breakfast. Neville looked over at his friend and saw the tell tale signs that he had woken up in the middle of the night from yet another nightmare. He had been plagued with nightmares ever since the battle at the ministry. Harry tried to pretend that he was fine, but everyone that shared a night with him in the room knew he wasn't. Neville had many times woken up from peaceful sleep to hear Harry screaming from a dream.

"I was in the greenhouse…. couldn't sleep," Neville explained quietly, looking away from Harry's piercing green eyes. It wasn't a lie that was where he was, he didn't have to tell them the details.

"Looks like you did more than tended to some plants mate," Ron commented as he affectionately jostled Neville on his bed, "You stink of booze. Had a bit of a night cap, did ya? And without any of us. For shame, Longbottom, and here I thought we were friends."

Neville just groaned and pulled his pillow over his head to drown out Ron's antics, while at the same time, getting away from the light that was threatening to burst his head open.

"Okay mate, we'll leave you alone to wallow in your bad decisions." Neville made an offensive hand gesture towards the red head, not bothering to emerge from the pillow, to which Ron just chuckled at. "Let's go, Harry, I bet Mione is already waiting for us."

"I'll meet you in the common room," Harry replied distractedly. At the same time Neville heard Ron leave, he felt his bed sink with added weight. Frowning, he removed his pillow from his face to see Harry sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, Nev?" Harry asked concerned, his green eyes looking down sadly.

"Yes..." Neville said slowly, unsure of where this was heading.

Harry sat nervously for a moment picking imaginary lint off his knee. "You just... you seem distracted lately... And now you're drinking ...alone... You don't even drink at parties..." Neville could tell the raven haired boy had more to say, so he waited for Harry to continue. "I know last year at the ministry was... it was haunting... And then everything with your parents and having to fight face to face with Bellatrix... I would understand if you were having a difficult time... I know I haven't really been th-"

"Harry, I'm fine," Neville interrupted, not wanting his friend to continue with his line of thinking, "Trust me. Nothing that happened at the ministry is bothering me. I'm actually very proud of what we did there. I finally beginning to feel like I belong in this house."

Harry smiled warmly at his friend, "You always belonged in this house, Nev, remember first year?"

Neville chuckled at the memory of trying to prevent the trio from breaking the rules, "Yeah I do. 'I- I- I'll fight you'." Neville had raised his hands up into fists and mimicking his expression from so many years ago, causing Harry to chuckle as well.

"Yeah, you're fine. Want me to bring you up some toast from breakfast?" Harry asked heading, to the door.

"I don't think I could manage to keep it down honestly," Neville answered, forcing himself up to get dressed. Harry chuckled and exited the dorm, leaving Neville to his own devices.

Neville found his shower to be bitter sweet. On one end, he felt immensely better washing away some of the toxins that had sweat themselves out through the night, but with it went the lingering scent of Graces that had been left on his skin. He smiled thinking about the night before; it was so unreal that just hours ago he had been with her in the most intimate way. He ached to be near her now, to see what would happen. Were they lovers now? He contemplated that for a bit, before deciding that one night didn't make them lovers. He highly doubted that she would be calling herself his girlfriend, but he wondered if maybe, she would act more familiar with him, go on a few dates, etc. He kind of wished he was Zambini, that he could have that sort of relationship with her. He envied that the boy got to know her the way he so craved. She didn't hide her emotions from him and he could tell by the way they were talking that they were close.

Neville walked into the Greenhouse, his mind still on the blonde he was about to meet. He walked over to where their plant was and looked down at the floor from last night. He felt ridiculous smiling like a fool looking down at the floor, but he couldn't help himself. He wondered how he should greet Graces when she got there. Should he kiss her? He wanted to. If she let him, he would kiss her every chance he got. He wouldn't even mind kissing her in the Great Hall for the whole world to see. Ron and Harry would probably throw the biggest fit, but Neville found he didn't care. They didn't know her; they judged her based on Draco. Admittedly, he didn't know her all that well either, but he knew she wasn't a bad person, and he had a real glimpse at her at her rawest, just Graces. She was even more beautiful. He saw her earlier, the real her, and under her mask and through all her complication, he knew there was something wonderful. And he didn't give a damn about what anyone else thought. With that in mind, he decided he was going to kiss her the moment she walked in the greenhouse. He felt silly that he even had to contemplate such a silly action; after all, he had kissed her in the most private of spots mere hours ago, surly kissing her gently on the lips, when there was no one else around, wouldn't bother her.

Finally the greenhouse door opened. Neville straightened smiling widely only to be disappointed as Pansy Parkinson waltzed in with a bored look on her face, before sneering at him.

"Graces won't be coming to help with the assignment, she asked that I come down and do whatever needed to be done," Pansy drawled, looking down her nose at Neville as if being in his presence was the greatest of inconveniences.

"Is… is she okay?" Neville asked concerned.

"That really isn't any of your business, now is it?" Pansy replied coldly, heading over to the plant. "However, I don't want you telling Sprout that she is slacking off as a partner, so yes she isn't feeling well. She should be fine by tomorrow though."

"You don't have to be here. I can take care of the plant," Neville stated, almost tripping on some pots as he hurried after the pug faced girl, "just tell Gr-Malfoy that I hope she feels better."

Pansy raised an eyebrow scrutinously at the awkward boy before her, "Why would you be sending well wishes to a Malfoy?"

The sandy haired boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I... well... Why wouldn't I?"

"Because she's a Malfoy." Pansy dead panned and rolled her eyes like it was so obvious.

"Uh... ummm... Love thy enemy?" Neville stated nervously, hoping Pansy would just take it as another Gryffindor nobility thing. He had heard Seamus say it many times to Harry and Ron as they threw fits about Draco. He asked him once what it meant and he just laughed and said it was a catholic thing and then told him about some bloke named Matthew with a book.

"Love thy enemy? Why would anyone love their enemy? I swear, Longbottom, you become more dimwitted as the days go by." And with that Pansy left.

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"Feeling better darling?" Pansy asked, entering the girls' dormitory, taking a seat on Graces bed and beginning to flip through Witches Weekly.

"I am, now that Zambini isn't withholding his hangover potion from me," Graces mumbled bitterly.

"Hmmmm, but he _did_ give it to you," Pansy reminded her, not bothering to look up from the magazine. Graces just rolled her eyes and continued lying in bed. "Are you planning on joining the living, now that you are feeling better?"

"No."

Pansy peered over the magazine for a moment, before idly flipping a page. "And why not?"

"I. Don't. Want. To."

The dark haired Slytherin girl was officially done trying to get her friend out of bed. If she knew one thing about Malfoys, it was that they were as stubborn as Hungarian horntails with a matching temper to boot. "Longbottom said the oddest thing to me," Pansy commented offhandedly.

Graces felt her heart drop to her stomach with panic. "Oh?" she prayed that Neville wasn't dim enough to tell anyone about their escapade the previous night.

"Yeah," Pansy continued half heartedly, more focused on the article detailing that the Screaming Banshees were going to be touring for the summer.

Graces was quickly becoming irritated with her friend's distraction. "And? What did he say?"

"Well, first he told me that he can take care of the plants and then he asked me to tell you that he hopes you feel better," Pansy frowned at the memory of how odd that was, before continuing on, "Then, when I asked why he cares, he was like, 'Love thy enemy?'... Isn't that the oddest thing you have ever heard? I mean, who loves their enemy?"

"That's a muggle saying," Graces answered sitting up, frowning, "it's a religious thing."

"Merlin's beard! Are you telling me that not only is Longbottom, a dirty blood traitor, but now he's into their religion? Do you think it's the same one that says to burn us alive?" Pansy exclaimed.

"How am I supposed to know what Longbottom believes?" Graces asked scowling.

"It was just a rhetorical question, Graces," Pansy said rolling her eyes, "I swear, when you and your brother are in a mood, you look for reasons to bite all of our heads off."

Graces just laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. "Do you think he meant it?"

"Meant what?"

"The muggle phrase… Do you think he really loves his enemies?"

"Probably," the other girl shrugged still reading, "I mean he is a Gryffindor; it sounds like something their lot would buy into."

"You mean something stupid?"

Pansy giggled, "There we go. Now, I know you're feeling better. Want to head down to the common room?"

"No," Graces said quietly, "really Pans, I just want to stay in bed today."

"Okay love, I'll check on you around lunch." And with that the Graces was left alone.

Graces laid there in bed staring at nothing and yet seeing a multitude of images. Neville's soft caring eyes as he entered her, the look on his face after of sheer wonder, she remembered the way his arms held her, the soft kiss on her forehead he gave her as he pulled her into him to sleep, and how stupid she had been to allow any of it.

Sleeping with Neville Longbottom was suicide. She had knowingly put her life at risk, and for what? A few hours of pleasure and comfort, that she knew, very well, nothing could come from after. She had no idea what had possessed her to do such a stupid thing. It wasn't as if she fancied the Gryffindor or anything like that, she did enjoy his company, for reasons she still refused to look into, but none of that, warranted or explained, why she had given herself to him. She wished she could blame it all on the alcohol, but she couldn't. She'd known what she was doing the whole time.

All she had done, in sleeping with Neville Longbottom, was add more problems to her life. Graces groaned and buried her face in her pillow. If anyone found out, her family would be forced to kill her; if they didn't, then the Dark Lord would kill them and her. It would be a kindness if they killed her before the Dark Lord got to her. Sleeping with a blood traitor was as bad as sleeping with a mudblood, and yet, she couldn't find herself disgusted that he had been inside her. She should have, she should have been sickened by the thought that a blood traitor had been spilled his seed inside her, nauseated by the scent of him lingering on his skin, and jaded by the small bite marks on her hips. Yet, she wasn't and that made her disgusted with herself. She was disgusted that she wasn't disgusted that she had slept with a blood traitor. She just wanted to scream, it was all so confusing.

_This doesn't NEED to be confusing. It was a mistake and it will never EVER happen again._

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**_Hope you all enjoyed, please don't forget to review! The next chapter is finished and I'll be posting it as soon as it's edited! _**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Author's note: A very special thanks to my amazing/brilliant betas ArthurDent2 and Denarii! Denarii was kind enough to offer to become a second beta for me. And ArthurDent2, as always, has been my solid rock through this process encouraging me and even at times adding her own flair ;)**

**Also thanks to my readers Phoenix, BlueRose22, katastrophex3, and two guests for their reviews! I really appreciated it! **

Chapter Five

Neville was trying very hard to not be rude as Hermione and Hannah talked to him about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep himself from looking over at the greenhouse door, anxiously waiting for Graces to arrive for class. He hadn't seen the blonde since their night together; Graces hadn't even been in attendance for meals in the Great Hall. He was starting to worry that she was actually sick and not just badly hungover.

"Neville. Nev," Hannah echoed impatiently, trying to get the sandy haired boy's attention, "Neville! NEVILLE!"

"Yes, sorry... wha... what did you say?"

Hannah sighed exasperatedly, "I asked if you were going to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Oh, uh, yes," Neville said idly, looking back at the door and smiling widely as Graces entered. Hannah and Hermione were about to ask why on earth he was smiling to see Graces Malfoy, but before they could he excused himself and walked over to the Slytherin girl.

Originally Neville thought he would embrace Graces, but after seeing her he quickly realized that would be a mistake. The Slytherin had paused for only a moment as she saw him approaching before scowling and hastily making her way over to her desk. She pointedly did not acknowledge Neville as he walked beside her. Unsure of what to do, Neville just waited until the two of them were in private before speaking.

"Are you feeling better?" The sandy haired boy asked, smiling shyly arriving at the desk, "I was starting to worry when you didn't come to dinner last night."

Graces didn't answer. She just glared coldly at Neville before continuing to get her inkwell and parchment out of her bag. Neville was steadily becoming more and more nervous the more Graces gave him the cold shoulder.

"So as you know this weekend is our first Hogsmeade trip," Neville started, his heart thrashing in his chest while the blonde next to him coolly ignored him, "and... umm I was thinking that since... well… since... yeah... I was wondering if maybe you would like to get a butterbeer or something Saturday? You know as a… well... a date." Graces stilled and looked up at Neville clearly horrified.

"You cannot be serious, Longbottom," Graces said incredulously.

Neville blushed and pushed through the feeling of rejection that was starting to boil in his stomach,"Well... umm... why not? I thought after we—"

"Ssshhhhh," Graces hissed, looking around in a panic. When she seemed satisfied that no one was paying attention to them, she turned back to Neville. "Merlin's beard, Longbottom! Are you truly that daft? Do you want someone to overhear?" she whispered harshly, "I would think the reason 'why not' is pretty crystal clear; so just forget everything that happened. It was a mistake."

"You… you think it was a mistake?" Neville asked, unable to hide his hurt.

"Of course it was a mistake," Graces hissed back, "I should have never been with you. You're a blood traitor and... and a friend of Harry Potter. I can't believe you don't see this! You are not the kind of man I am supposed to end up with."

"Right," Neville stated bitterly, "you're supposed to end up Mrs. Zabini." Graces mouth dropped as though she had been smacked, but before the blonde could retort, Professor Sprout was in front of the class giving them instructions for the day.

"We will spend the day transplanting our hellebores. Begin by cutting off the flowers with a garden pruner. Dig the plant out of the ground and use a knife to cut the root ball into two and then into four; be sure to always include part of the center root. Plant the divisions in the garden immediately unless the roots are very small. If that's the case, plant the hellebore in a pot and we will just have to use it next year," and with that Professor Sprout had dismissed them to begin their work.

Neville began working diligently on the project without a word to his partner. He didn't even want to look at the girl next to him. He had never before felt so disheartened, so rejected. He knew it was a long shot that she would actually want to go on a proper date with him, but he had hoped. She did, after all, sleep with him and he never thought in a million years that would happen. Was it really so crazy to think that she would at least have a drink with him? Apparently it was. Graces' words stung somewhere deep in his chest and he could feel his heart drop down into his stomach. _I bet if I were Zabini she would get a drink with me. She would sit there and make jokes and let me actually get to know her, because then I would be the kind of man she was supposed to end up with. I'm not even asking for anything much. I'm not asking that she marry me or anything, just that she get to know me and let me get to know her. I guess she doesn't want to get to know me. I should have figured... I'm not rich, handsome, smart, or anything remotely like the sort of guys in the Slytherin house. I was a fool to believe she could want me._

"Zabini is just a friend," Neville heard Graces say quietly to his side. He made a small gesture with his head to let her know he heard her, but continued to work. "No really, he is. We've known each other since nappies... he's just a friend. I'm... I'm not...I'm not like that... I would have never, you know, with you if ... well... if I was... involved with anyone... and you know that I had never... that I had never been with anyone before... you ... you were my first."

Neville was now looking down at Graces, who was clearly uncomfortable. "You were my first too," he murmured quietly, turning back to cutting the roots of their plant, "I just thought that it would be nice to get to know you, take you out properly, and let you get to know me."

Graces rolled her eyes, "Why?"

"Well... I'd like to know the girl I uh... well... I lost my virginity to," Neville blushed, "And... uh don't you want to know me?"

"I know you fine," Graces quipped, obviously reverting back to being annoyed with Neville and wanting the subject dropped.

"Not really. Maybe if you actually knew me and I knew you we could grow to you know... fancy one another or something. I'm not that bad of a bloke you know." Graces shot him a wary look, before muttering that he was crazy. "Is it really that insane of a thought? I mean you already confessed that you liked me well enough… and..." Neville was unsure if he should make his next point, unsure because he didn't know for sure that Graces had felt the same spark with him that he had with her. "Didn't you.. _feel _something when… when we were together?"

Neville all but held his breath as Graces stood at their workstation, her quick silver eyes trained on the plant in front of her, her expression slowly softening. Neville knew she was remembering their night together, knew she was thinking of the comfort they were able to find in one another. He knew she was recalling how easy it was for them to just let their guard down with one another and he was certain that she was remembering the spark they felt when they kissed and the brilliance they experienced when they were intimate. And then Graces gazed up at him and like a candle in the wind, the hope that was beginning to ignite in him was instantly blown out.

"Tell me, Longbottom," Graces queried gently, her voice lacking the harshness it usually maintained, "what would come of that? Of us getting to know one another. Nothing has changed because of what we did. I am still well on my way to being a death eater. What good would come from us fancying one another? Honestly, would you want to introduce me to your gran, after what my aunt has done to her only son? Or better yet, do you think that I could ever be civil to your mudblood friends like Granger?" Neville looked away, unsure of how to answer such valid questions, it all seemed so easy before she said it like that. "Nothing can come from what we did. Fairy tales are a myth, Longbottom. Stories of fiction to make good little boys and girls stay innocent as long as possible before they are slapped across the face with reality and tossed into the big, bad, _real_ world. The hero doesn't always win and the good guy doesn't always get the girl. These stories you have heard growing up are nothing but lies. This is reality, you're an heir; your family is expecting you to marry a sweet, light witch from a respectable light family that will bear you a sweet, light heir to continue your legacy," Graces paused, staring down at the Malfoy crest that was stamped on her ring, "And I have expectations as well, family is everything, Longbottom. The real key to immortality, and I will not hurt mine. We could never possibly grow to fancy one another."

For the rest of the class the two partners worked in silence. There seemed to be nothing to say, Graces was content on pretending that the whole thing never happened, and Neville didn't see that he had any other option than to go along pretending as well. He had no answers to Graces questions, even if he did accept her for all that she was, good and bad, his family and friends never would. It was a harsh reality, and yet he still wished that she had said yes to going on a proper date with him. Graces Malfoy, without her stoic mask, was an amazingly bewitching girl. She said that she didn't think that they could grow to fancy one another, but Neville knew that he, at least, could. He did. He fancied her now. She was smart, funny, hard working, endearingly awful at Herbology, had the prettiest of smiles and the most melodic laugh. It hurt in ways he had never expected that she didn't want to share that part of herself with him.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, class was dismissed. Graces and Neville packed their things in awkward silence.

"Neville." Neville looked up from packing his inkwell to see Hannah standing nervously in front of his and Graces' work area. It was odd for Hannah to come over to his desk instead of waiting with Hermione outside for him. "I –I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the Three Broomsticks Saturday for a butterbeer or something."

"Yeah, sure Hannah, that sounds great," Neville said, continuing to pack his things, "Who else is going?"

"Umm... well I was planning on it just being you and I. Like a date," Hannah stammered, nervously playing with one of her braids.

Graces paused next to Neville at Hannah's last statement, before hurriedly trying to clean her work area to get away.

"Uh... sure, Hannah, that would be nice," the sandy haired boy muttered absolutely shocked, he really had no idea what to do. Hannah was one of his dearest friends and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, especially now that he knew what that felt like. He was never exactly good at saying no, either. And let's not forget the fact that Graces had made it very clear she did not want to go on a date with him, so he had no one to go with. He didn't even realize what he was saying until it was out of his mouth. The Hufflepuff smiled brightly before leaving the class. When he came out of his surprise, he realized that he had just agreed to a date right next to Graces. He turned to say something to her only to find that she was turning to leave.

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Draco sat across from his sister in the Great Hall, eyeing her warily. He knew something was terribly wrong with her. Others may not have noticed, but he could see the sadness etched in her stoney eyes. She smiled and laughed with Pansy, bantered with Blaise, but none of that could fool him. She was his flesh and blood, the only person in the world that knew him completely and he was the only person that knew her completely.

"Do you want to tell me what is wrong?" Draco asked under his breath, taking a bite of his porridge.

"Nothing's wrong," Graces said quietly.

"Bollocks, you've been upset for days," Draco ventured, becoming increasingly frustrated, "you look as though someone has killed your kneazle."

"I don't have a kneazle."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the ill attempt at humor on his sister's part. "That is beside the point and you know it. So spill."

"Please, Draco, just leave it alone. Please."

"I can't leave it alone, you have been moping about the castle since Monday! It's Friday morning and you look, if possible, even more miserable."

The two Slytherins sat there, at a stalemate, neither willing to bend to the other. Draco waited patiently for Graces to give him any hint of what was wrong.

"Draco please," Graces whispered her voice laced with her misery "If I tell you, I'll cry. I'll turn into Moaning Myrtle right here in the Great Hall for the whole school to see. Please leave me be."

Draco wanted to whisk his sister away in an abandoned room and let her cry. He wanted to fold her into his arms and let her sob endlessly against his chest while he whispered soothing words to her until she was exhausted and her eyes had run dry. He wanted to fill whatever hollow feeling in her chest with reassurances that she was loved and that he would take care of her, but instead he nodded his head and reached across the table and took her hand in his, rubbing her palm with his thumb in gentle circles that immediately seemed to calm her.

"I should go to class," Graces reminded, pulling her hand away. Draco watched as his sister dejectedly rose from her seat. She looked as though she were a prisoner in Azkaban, walking to receive the dementor's kiss.

"Would you like me to walk you?" he offered concerned.

Graces hesitated in answering, worrying her lip and looking off to the side as though embarrassed by her own weakness. Draco realized she probably was, but kept his face composed. If he looked at her sympathetically she would only take it as pity.

"That would make you late for your class, I have Herbology today."

"My offer still stands. Would you like me to walk you?"

"I don't want you to be late." Her lip quivered a bit and she looked away, but she was strong. _Not strong enough though, no one can stay that strong for that long, not even a Malfoy._

"I'll walk you." Draco stood, flinging his bag onto his shoulders and waited for his sister to gather her things. They walked in comfortable silence to the greenhouse, shoulders brushing as they made their way over. He didn't need to see her to know that she was lost in her world of thought. Draco silently prayed that she would say something, anything before he left her. They were now nearing the greenhouse and his heart sank slightly with the realization that she was not going to confide in him. "Graces, you know you can tell me anything, anything at all."

Graces nodded her head, but Draco wasn't convinced that she truly believed him.

"You are my flesh and blood Graces; nothing you say to me will ever change that. And you know nothing means more to a Malfoy than their blood. Whatever is going on you don't have to hide it from me."

"What if it's terrible, what if I've done something unforgivable by your standards? By Malfoy standards..."

Draco's heart clenched at how small his sister sounded. He wondered what it was that she had done that he would consider unforgivable. Then again, to dark purebloods many things could constitute as unforgivable. Ironically, none of these included unforgivable curses.

"You could never do anything unforgivable by _my_ standards."

Graces swallowed what seemed to be a rock of emotions, "What if I slept with Neville Longbottom? And what if I now think I fancy him?"

"Fine," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes "go on, make your jokes. I'll let you keep your little secret." He gave her a small smile. "Surely whatever it is isn't as bad as that."

He decided to bend down and kiss Graces on her forehead, public displays of affection were rare among the Malfoys, but considering how destitute his sister was looking these days, he decided to indulge her. When he pulled away, her eyes were swimming with unwept tears and she looked as though she wanted to say something more, but in the end she turned and headed for her class. Draco felt something coil in his chest as he watched his sister disappear into the greenhouse. He wished that he knew what it was that was torturing her. As he headed back to the castle he decided that he would take her to the three Broomsticks tomorrow, just the two of them, and he would buy her so much candy that she would be as hyped up as a cornish pixie.

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Graces walked into the greenhouse with a sinking heart. Draco thought she was kidding, that her confession wasn't true. He thought the whole idea, of her sleeping with Longbottom, completely preposterous. She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, there was truly no one she could talk to. She didn't even realize how badly she wanted to confess and be heard until Draco had dismissed her. She wished he had believed her; she would have welcomed his screams over his gentle kiss that was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn't. It felt like cold acid had been released into her blood and was eating her insides. Draco trusted that she hadn't done such a foolish thing and he believed she deserved comfort. She didn't deserve comfort though, she deserved the pain she was in because she had caused it for herself. It was only her fault. She had been the one foolish enough to sleep with Longbottom and then actually fancy him after she knew she couldn't, shouldn't, have him.

The worst part was that she didn't realize that she fancied him until he accepted the date with Abbot. The moment he agreed, it was like a thestral kicked her in the stomach and the ache that was there still hadn't gone away. All of a sudden, she was noticing every good quality the pudgy pureblood had: she noticed when he stopped in the courtyard to comfort a homesick first year instead of continuing on with his friends, she noticed how he never shot dirty looks at Slytherins like the rest of the Gryffindors, she noticed how vibrant his laughter was and how he usually tilted his head up towards the sky as he let himself be overcome with the humor and she noticed his smile. Graces had never seen a kinder smile in all her life. Neville's smile was like warm sunlight on a cold day, it instantly sent warmth to whoever he graced with it. She had thought that the effect of his smile would eventually wear off since he smiled so often, but it didn't. Anytime he passed her in the hall he would offer her a small, shy smile that made her heart flutter and her insides turn warm with silent affection.

Graces hated him for that. She hated that he now wielded a power over her that she couldn't control. She hated that her heart reacted to him against her wishes. So she did the only thing that she could think to do, she tried to push him away. When he smiled at her in the halls, she made herself scowl at him. When he tried to talk to her in herbology, she gave clipped answers that made it clear his conversation wasn't welcome, and when he brushed up against her by accident, she pointedly moved farther away from him. He would, of course, ignore her hostility and continue to try and be pleasant, but she couldn't find it in herself to even be neutral towards him. He had hurt her. She knew they couldn't have anything with one another, that what they had done had been a mistake, but she didn't expect him to so easily forget about her and accept a date with Abbott.

"I got a new top for Saturday!" Graces heard Hannah exclaim excitedly to Hermione. "It's green, Neville's favorite," the Hufflepuff's voice then dropped to a secretive whisper, "And it's a bit low cut, nothing inappropriate, but..." Hannah's voice trailed off suggestively. Graces quickly hurried her steps not wanting to hear anymore than she had to.

She made herself feel better by imagining setting Abbot's stupid, childish braids on fire for giggling secretly with her friends in the hall the past week every time Neville walked by. It had been almost five days since Neville agreed to go on a date with the girl and she was still giggling and swooning over him any time he passed her. It was absolutely ridiculous! She had known Longbottom for years, and for years she was able to act like a normal person around him. Then, with one date coming up, she acts as though she is under amortentia. The idiot.

Graces silently took her seat next to Neville and immediately started pulling out her work when she felt a gentle hand go to her shoulder. She whipped her head to the side and glared at the sandy haired boy beside her for having the audacity to touch her. "Are you okay?"

Graces turned away from Neville's kind eyes and shrugged his hand off her. "I'm fine," she muttered tightly, fighting desperately to not let her face betray her.

"Are… are you sure? I saw your brother walking you to class... and you've seen a bit… _off _all week."

"I said I was fine," Graces replied icily, feeling exposed under Neville's concerned eyes.

Professor Sprout came up a few moments later and told the class about how they would be working with Devil's Snare. Graces took in a long breath, today was definitely not her day. She couldn't remember the last time she worked with a plant like Devil's Snare without it trying to attack her, or, in fact, any plant. She followed Neville to the dark area where they would be pruning the malignant plant and stared at its seemingly innocent vines. Their plant was still young, its vines were the size of a child's arm, but they could still take a firm hold and cause damage to one's body.

"Why don't you let me deal with the plant and you create the light?" Neville suggested, giving Graces a hopeful smile that, even in the dark, gleamed and set her skin prickling with warmth, "I mean... no offense, but I would hate to lose my partner."

Graces scoffed at his attempt at humor, "Yeah, because you have such a hard time replacing me don't you, Longbottom." Immediately the blond girl wanted to take her words back. Neville was now standing with his back to the plant looking at her with a confused furrow between his brows; there was no hostility in his eyes, just sheer confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing," Graces whispered, looking away embarrassed, "forget I said anything."

"No, you _are_ upset. What is it?"

"I am not upset, just leave it. I'm fine."

"Please," Neville proceeded exasperatedly, "I've been around Hermione and Ginny enough to know that when a girl says she's fine and she is not, she is lying. Just tell me what it is."

"WHY!? WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU ANYTHING? YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND, YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, NOT REALLY. YOU TRY TO TELL YOURSELF THAT YOU DO, BUT YOU FORGET ABOUT ME INSTANTLY, THE MOMENT—"

Graces didn't get to finish her rant before she felt something pull her feet from under her and darkness began to creep around her vision before it swallowed her completely.

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**In case you haven't noticed I **_**love**_** cliff-hangers! Don't forget to review/follow! I will try to get chapter 6 up as soon as possible!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Author's notes: As always thank you to my betas ArthurDent2 and Denarii who always manage to set aside time to edit for me even when their schedules are crazy. Also special thanks to Veraani and BlueRose22 for their kind reviews!**

Chapter 6

Neville knew the instant he felt a foreign grip on his ankle that he had made a mistake. He had been so concerned about why Graces was upset that he allowed himself to be distracted enough to turn his back on a dangerous plant. He felt the hearty plant rip his feet from the floor, just at the same time it pulled Graces, sending both partners to the ground. Unfortunately for Graces she was facing Neville when the plant pulled her she went backwards and he toppled over her. Neville heard the sickening crack of her head as it hit the corner of a table before it impacted the floor with added force from his weight. He immediately turned to the plant which was still pulling the two students towards it, clutching their legs mercilessly with more of its unruly vines.

"Incendio!" he bellowed, sending the plant into flames and casting an orange glow in the previously dark room.

He looked down at Graces to see if she was alright and felt his blood grow cold as if his insides were being scraped away with a knife. Dark liquid was pooling out from her. Already the platinum blond hair was turning black with the thick coating of blood. The rest of the class was now crowding around murmuring to one another as Professor Sprout pushed through. Neville remained bent over the still form, his eyes frantic with worry. "Graces? Oh gods, Graces wake up. Can you hear me? Professor!"

Professor Sprout was soon bent over the paling girl. "We need to take her to Madam Pomfrey," she whispered urgently, fairly panicked herself, "Neville can you lift her?"

Neville nodded and gently lifted Graces from the floor pulling her close to him. It was so odd for him to once again have her in his arms. He had longed to touch her, hold her close to his chest, feel her head against his neck and caress her skin while whispering sweet nothings to her. And now there he was, holding her close to his chest, with her head being cradled against his neck and shoulder while it bled out, and he continued to whisper reassurances he knew she couldn't hear. Not exactly what he had meant. He supposed that life liked to constantly toy with him.

He and Professor Sprout were about to leave the greenhouse when they heard Graces' slurred mumbling, "Puuet me dow-nnn."

"Graces!" The sandy haired boy instantly felt relief at hearing Graces voice. "Thank Merlin. We're taking you to the hospital wing; it's going to be okay." The blond in his arms seemed to be struggling to say something, and Neville and Madam Pomfrey watched as she willed the next three words out of her mouth.

"Put…. me… down!"

Neville looked down at Graces and was about to protest, but the girl began to desperately and pitifully struggle to get out of his arms. 

"Please Graces, calm down. You're not well."

Professor Sprout was watching in horror as Graces struggled in Neville's arms, her head beginning to bleed more. Unsure of what to do she nodded to Neville for him to put her down. Neville slowly placed Graces on her feet leaving his arms around her middle to steady her, gradually moving them away so they were hovering near.

"Graces, please," Neville groaned his insides turning into more and more knots at the sight of Graces bleeding profusely onto the greenhouse floor, trying desperately to be strong when she should be allowing his help. "You're really hurt, just let me take you to the hospital wing."

"Don't say my given name, Longbottom," Graces said breathlessly as she held the table in front of her and closed her eyes to the room spinning around her, "It suggests a familiarity that you and I do not possess."

Clear liquid that was clouded with blood began to flow from Graces nose as she brought a shaking hand to her forehead. Neville looked to the professor to silently ask the question of what was happening and then he felt Graces' weight as she began crumbling to the ground and back into his fortunately ready arms.

This time Neville wasted no time in figuring out what to do; before Professor Sprout could even regain her thoughts he was running out of the greenhouse, heart pounding and ears ringing with adrenaline. He could feel his arms and chest being coated with blood and numerous times he worried about tripping on the slick substance that had now began to drop onto his shoes, but he never stopped. He ignored the stitch in his side as he flew up the stairs, three at a time, before kicking the hospital doors open and shouting for Madam Pomfrey.

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"She has a depressed skull fracture of the occipital, she should never have been moved," Madam Pomfrey muttered to herself, forgetting that Neville was still hovering behind her.

"Is she going to be okay?"

The mediwitch idly wondered why the Longbottom boy looked so distraught over a Malfoy for a brief second, before refocusing all her attention on the girl lying helpless on her table.

"Mr. Longbottom, I think you should wait outside of the curtains until I am done working on Miss Malfoy."

"Is she going to be okay?" Neville asked again desperately.

Madam Pomfrey didn't want to answer that question just yet. Graces was badly injured and a head trauma of this magnitude could easily kill her, or at least cause permanent damage.

"Mr. Longbottom, are you her next of kin?" Neville was silent for a few moments before answering no, sheepishly. "Then you really should not be in this room and furthermore you should not be distracting me from what I am doing at this moment."

The mediwitch knew she was being a bit harsh, but her attention needed to be focused. She made a quick decision to wake the girl. If she was awake, her own magic would try to repair the damage alongside her, but as long as she was passed out like this her magic remained idle under the surface.

"Rennervate!"

Graces awoke in agony, Madam Pomfrey ignored her groans and whimpers and continued to work, she sighed with relief as Graces' magic started to instantly repair her injuries alongside her own magic.

"Miss Malfoy, do you know where you are?"

Graces clearly did not know or care where she was, as she futilely began trying to sit up, Madam Pomfrey had strapped her down, though, so she just wiggled and whimpered against the straps.

"You are in the Hospital wing at Hogwarts. Can you answer some questions?" Madam Pomfrey waited for a response, but all Graces did was clench her eyes more tightly, her breathing hard. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest. "Graces, please you need to stay with me. Do you understand where you are?"

"Yes," Graces forced through gritted teeth.

"Good. What is your full name?" The mediwitch continued to work on the injuries, she needed Graces awake, and she needed to ensure that there was no brain damage being done as she healed her. The pain that the child was in was only temporary; brain damage, even in the wizarding world, could be permanent.

"Graces Bellatrix Malfoy," she panted.

"And your brother?"

"Draco Araxes Malfoy." Graces was in so much pain, an endless sea of hurt in her head, throbbing heavily. She was drowning in it. Any moment of relief was washed away in an instant with the next wave of agony. They came without mercy, without warning. The only thing she was sure of was that they were going to continue to plunge her into greater depths of this new, dark ocean. She gritted her teeth against it so hard that she was sure that they would crack, but she didn't care. She would welcome any other distraction from the pounding in her head.

"What is your house?" Whoever was speaking sounded so far away. She just wanted fall back into the darkness, back where she was left out of this misery, but the voice was relentless. "What is your house?"

She answered what she hoped was correct, what she prayed was enough to make the voice be quiet and let her go.

"Good. Do you remember what happened?" Graces didn't answer she just whimpered and turned away in response. "Miss Malfoy do you remember?"

Graces was done answering. It was too much, she couldn't hear the voice anymore. She was giving in to her body, allowing the pain to pull her under its depths so it could to drown her and let her feel nothing. She was ready to succumb, why should she care for the voice calling out to her? She would rather be in the dark where there is no pain, just rest.

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Neville was rarely defiant, but he noted that he seemed to have a knack for choosing the correct times to be so. He knew that Madam Pomfrey told him to wait outside the curtains, but he decided if he was just silent, she would never notice him with all her focus on Graces. So he stayed and watched. He watched as Graces fought through what must have been excruciating pain, wanting nothing more than to take it for her. He couldn't stand the sight of her whimpering on the table. She wasn't the kind of person that whimpered. Graces Malfoy was a rock. She stood solid against anything; if she was whimpering from pain then that pain must be incredible. He wondered how she had stood so defiant in the Greenhouse when she was hurting so badly. Even now he could see her struggling to maintain control. He had watched her grit her teeth to keep from calling out and turning away to hide her weaknesses. Something told him that Graces would not want him there, that she wouldn't want anyone to see her like this, but he couldn't leave her. He felt like if he walked out of that room he was abandoning her and he couldn't do that. He would rather face her wrath, if she ever found out he had seen her like this, than leave her alone with a stranger when she was suffering.

He kept his eyes averted from her actual wound, focusing on her face. He had only caught a brief glimpse of the damage done to Graces' skull and it sent more fear into him than Bellatrix Lestrange had at the Ministry. He tried not to think of it, even now, and listened to Graces answering the mediwitch's questions. Surely if she was coherent and answering questions, no matter how weakly, she would live. It turned his stomach inside out to watch her struggle to form the simple words to answer Madam Pomfrey. He watched as her face contorted against the pain and she gritted her teeth and fought. Then suddenly, her face relaxed and the whole room went still before her eyes rolled back into her head and she began thrashing violently against the bed with convulsions. Madam Pomfrey instantly went and held her head down to the side to prevent more damage to her exposed brain, but holding her there with both hands prevented her from giving her any other medical attention.

Neville instantly went and took the mediwitch's place holding Graces head down and placing cloth into her mouth to prevent her from swallowing her tongue.

"You shouldn't be here," Pomfrey scolded, working diligently at the task at hand. Neville noted that she did not ask him to leave so he just continued to whisper reassurances to Graces, while holding her down as firmly as he dared without hurting her.

"She doesn't know you, I couldn't leave her with someone she doesn't know and trust when she was suffering."

"Are you saying the girl trusts you?" Neville didn't need to look at the mediwitch to know she was scoffing and rolling her eyes at the idea.

He didn't answer right away he thought back to the moment before he had taken her, he remembered how she had looked up at him her silver eyes filled with an assortment of emotions, many of which he did not understand, but he remembered distinctly seeing trust somewhere in there. "Yes... she does," he murmured quietly, ignoring the way Madam Pomphrey narrowed her eyes at him before muttering a spell that sent saline on Graces exposed wounds. The seizure stopped instantly and the mediwitch continued to work, even as Graces came back to consciousness.

"Longbottom," Graces groaned feebly as she shut her eyes, "if you don't let go of me I am going to hex you."

Neville closed his eyes as relief flooded through his body like cool water on a hot summer's day. "How will you hex me without a wand?" he teased, too happy to take Graces' threat to heart.

"I'll strangle you then."

Neville chuckled, "You can't. Your limbs are tied to the bed."

Graces frowned and weakly tried to move her hands, finding that what Neville had said was indeed true as her wrists couldn't lift up against the straps. Then she smiled, never opening her eyes."Mmmm didn't know you were so kinky, Longbottom."

Neville blushed red and looked up to see Madam Pomfrey scowling at him. "I think it is best you leave Miss Malfoy in my care, Mr. Longbottom. Everything is under control now, she will be perfectly fine by tomorrow."

Neville, still mortified, merely nodded and avoided the mediwitch's gaze as he slunk out of the hospital wing into the hall.

When Neville stepped out into the corridor, he couldn't have been more surprised by what was in front of him. Draco Malfoy was running, literally running, in a manner completely unfit for the stoic pureblood heir. His hair was mussed up around his face, and his eyes were wide with panic. When he saw Neville emerge from the wing he stopped dead in his tracks almost toppling over. He looked completely terrified and his lips began to tremble, and Neville watched as the proud boy had to catch himself on the nearest wall. He moved his eyes away from Neville and to the door of the Hospital wing.

Neville walked forward and reached out a hand to Draco to clasp his shoulder when he realized he was covered in Graces' blood. Draco's sister's blood had stained his clothes and was still warm on his hands. The sandy haired boy could only imagine what Draco had thought seeing him emerge from the hospital wing like this after the whole school was probably talking about how Graces was hurt in class. No doubt that everyone had elaborated on what happened in the Greenhouse making it sound more gruesome and terrible than it already was.

"Is she... is she-" Draco couldn't seem to finish his sentence and his voice was shaking.

"She's going to be okay."

The relief that washed over Draco was instant; Neville thought that he may still cry from it alone, but he didn't. He pulled himself up and erased the emotions that had been on his face. He couldn't hide it in his eyes, though; his eyes that were so much like his sister's in more ways than just color. He began striding to the door and paused while opening it, speaking over his shoulder to Neville. "If you're lying to me, Longbottom, and she's..." He couldn't even bring himself to say it aloud. "I will kill you."

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Neville, once again, was losing sleep over Graces Malfoy, and this time he wasn't losing sleep imagining her perfect lips on his or her smile that warmed his heart. No matter how hard he tried, every time he closed his eyes he saw her bleeding or seizing. It felt like there were a dozen snakes in his stomach slithering around. He just wanted to see Graces again, make sure she was alright. He was convinced that if he saw her and she was still well in the hospital wing, he would be able to sleep.

So he did the only thing he could think to do that would allow him to keep his sanity; he snuck out of the Gryffindor 6th year boys' room and into the hospital wing. He slowly opened the door to the hospital wing and peered around the wooden opening, looking to see if Madam Pomfrey or any other patients were awake. To his great relief the whole room was empty except for the faint blue glow of the moon and the soft breathing of the only patient in the wing. Neville slowly made his way over to Graces bed side. It was obvious by the flowers and small cards on the side of her bed that she had visitors Apparently, by the looks of it, the whole Slytherin house had visited. Piles of chocolate frogs and candies covered the dresser and small cards littered the area, untouched since she had clearly not woken up. Neville looked at the hand drawn ones, obviously from the younger years, that were not sealed in an envelope.

They had the normal get well greetings written on them, but it was the pictures that Neville was interested in. Most of them had poorly drawn pictures of Graces in what appeared to the Slytherin common room with younger years; in them she was leading lines of first years to the dungeons or helping with homework. One card in particular stood out from the rest, though. It was very well drawn, clearly done by someone who had a great talent in sketching with charcoal, and in it Graces was sitting with a child on her lap clearly giving comfort. Her face was set to still be firm. There was no smile or any obvious warmth, but she was holding the girl close and there was a handkerchief in her hand with the initials GM embroidered in it. Neville stood there looking at all the cards, pondering about what Graces must be like behind closed doors. She clearly was only cold towards those she didn't know or who were not in her own house. Obviously, she was good at being a prefect. In the halls it always seemed like she was stern with the younger years, but Neville supposed that she must be like McGonagall in that she was stern, but also warm in her own way.

He stared at the picture and thought of how much he longed to know the girl sketched in the drawing. He hated how closed off Graces had been with him since their night in the greenhouse. If possible, she had become more distant and stone-faced than she had been previously. It was frustrating beyond words for the Gryffindor boy. He had tried to be friendly in herbology, making small talk and that sort of thing, but Graces would always just ignore him unless he was talking about the project and even then, her words were clipped and didn't allow further conversation. Why couldn't she just talk to him? Give him a chance? What made him so inferior, that he couldn't be allowed the privilege to know her? She had slept with him easy enough, but she wouldn't go out for a simple drink with him? Or at least be friendly towards him as a partner?

He placed the drawing down and looked at the figure lying in the bed. The figure that he could never seem to get off his mind. The figure he had worried himself sick over all day. Graces was sleeping peacefully, there were no signs that she had suffered an injury. Her lips were back to being a pretty shade of pink and her hair was no longer saturated in her blood. For the first time all day, Neville's heart began beating at a regular pace. He hadn't even realized that it had been fluttering wildly in his chest all day with anxiety until that moment.

"You have no idea how frustrating it is to care about you," Neville said quietly, "It's awful. All I wanted was to sit in here today with you and I couldn't. If I had, everyone would wonder why. I honestly wouldn't give a dragon's dung what everyone thought, but I knew that you would be infuriated at the idea of me being by your side. Because, as you so delicately stated, I am not the kind of man you are supposed to end up with..."

Neville was glad Graces was asleep so she couldn't hear the hurt mixed with bitterness in his words."Is it really that awful the idea of being with me? I know I'm not the smartest or handsomest bloke at this school, but is the idea of being seen with me really that heinous? I can understand why you wouldn't want anyone knowing that we slept together, that was private… but you won't even get a drink with me or be friendly towards me when we are alone. You act as though nothing happened, like we never shared anything together... but we did. Sometimes I wish I could be like you and forget everything about that night when you ostracize and insult me, but I can't. When I look at you though, those few moments when you let your guard down, show the least bit of emotion, of yourself, I'm glad I can't. I don't want to. Every moment of the day I think of you, even when I sleep I dream of you.

"I shouldn't think of you, I should think of Hannah. She actually does like me. I have a bloody date with her tomorrow and everything. I am the worst person in the world. Hannah is sweet, kind, pretty and wants my affection, and all I can do is think about how I wish it was you I was going on a date with. I don't even know why I want to go on a date with you. You're not even nice to me unless you're drunk or are suffering a head injury... and even with the head injury you weren't very nice..."

Neville sat exasperated in the open seat by Graces bed and groaned into his hands. "I wish I could tell myself that it was just the sex, that I just lust for you, but I can't. I really like you... I have no idea why, you certainly are not nice to me, but I do. I find myself learning more and more small things about you that make me like you more. I like your smile, your sense of humor. I like that you always sneak a sweet in your mouth after history of magic. You think no one notices, but I do. I like how smart you are, but that you don't throw it in everyone's face like Hermione, and I like that you are always tutoring younger Slytherins in the library on Sunday night. That isn't a prefect's job, but you do it anyways, and despite how it sets us back in class, I find it endearing that you are so awful with plants."

Neville swallowed the sob that had launched itself into his throat. "I was so worried, I thought that you were... it was awful. For more reasons than just one. I couldn't lie to myself anymore and say that I didn't care about you. I care about you, more than I imagined I did. I couldn't even bring myself to leave your side until I heard you were well, and even then I couldn't stop worrying over you."

Neville reached out as if to touch her, but then stopped himself. He wanted to hold her hand to brush the back of his fingers against her soft cheeks, but he knew that if she were awake she wouldn't welcome the touch from him, so he put his hand down and continued to gaze at her sleeping form. Her body slowly moved up and down with her deep breaths, how relaxed she looked without that constant bitter expression stuck on her face, and when she turned over she would emit a small content sigh. It was nice, in a way, that Graces was sleeping, he was free to say what he wanted to her without worry and was free to look at her and not be caught staring.

He spent a good few hours watching her wistfully, memorizing the exact shape of her lips, admiring the color of her hair and trying to remember how soft her skin was. He wished she was awake only so he could look at her eyes. She had so much depth in those pools of quicksilver; as guarded as she was, her eyes often showed brief flickers of her true emotions.

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**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Make sure to follow/review! Next chapter is Neville's date with Hannah! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Author's notes: I just feel that it should be pointed out that this was a huge chapter for my betas AurthurDent2 and Denarii. They are truly amazing for making time in their busy schedules to edit it! Seriously, it's so incredibly nice of them to volunteer to edit my work. In earlier chapters it seems that I have spelled a few character's names incorrectly, Denarii has pointed this out to me, and I am going to do my very best to not have that happen anymore. So sorry about that, thank merlin for betas right?**

**Also special thanks to DamonSalvatorlover, BlueRose22, and Phoenix for their kind reviews! And to Stikking55 for the private messages! I always enjoy discussing my story and I appreciated having a reader to bounce a few ideas on.**

**Now time to read about Neville's date!**

**Chapter 7**

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Ernie asked, picking out a few acid pops from the display inside Honeydukes.

"No, not really," Neville yawned, following his friend.

Ernie smiled knowingly before nudging the shy Gryffindor good naturedly. "Too excited for your date with Hannah, huh?" he winked, causing Neville to blush and rub the back of his neck, not meeting the Hufflepuff's eye. "Don't be nervous, Nev. Hannah is just as excited. I doubt if she slept any either. You know, she hasn't been able to stop talking about you since Monday. It's really annoying actually. Not that I don't like you, but I definitely don't want to hear about how much she fancies you, or sit there while she wonders aloud if you're a good kisser."

Neville closed his eyes as guilt stabbed at his gut. Any time Hannah was mentioned it felt like a blade was twisting violently in his abdomen. He felt terrible. Hannah held so much affection for him, and all he did was think of Graces. He wished he had never agreed to this date, it was wrong when he didn't hold the same feelings and would only hurt Hannah. She didn't deserve that, she was a good friend.

"Neville," Ernie said soothingly as he draped an arm over the sandy haired boy's shoulders, "don't look like that. I'm sure you're a fine kisser, and even if you're not, Hannah won't know the difference. She's never kissed anyone before."

Neville just nodded, but continued to avoid Ernie's eye. What could he say? Ernie was one of Hannah's best friends. He couldn't tell him that he didn't have feelings like that for Hannah, let alone tell him about Graces.

"So have you?"

"Have I what?"

Ernie rolled his eyes. "Kissed a girl. Have you ever kissed a girl, or should I run ahead and tell Hannah not to have such high hopes?"

Neville blushed, before muttering that he had. Ernie looked as though he were going to ask Neville who, but got distracted by Draco and Blaise's sudden presence.

Draco Malfoy had not been in the store for two whole minutes before he was swarming the shelves, proceeding to buy anything and everything in sight. Neville moved between some shelves as Draco and Blaise made their way nearer to where he and Ernie were standing.

"Merlin's beard," Blaise moaned exasperatedly as Draco proceeded to clear the full shelf in front of him of chocolate frogs, "I highly doubt that Graces needs this much candy, Draco."

Draco shrugged and proceeded to examine the sugar quills, deciding on two white, peacock-shaped ones that had a mixture of pinks and purples. "Graces feels better when she has candy. I want her to feel better."

Blaise sighed, "She likes it when she is not feeling well emotionally. She was physically hurt."

"You know, as well as I, that she hasn't been right emotionally either. Something's been wrong since Saturday and it got worse Monday. So I figure, the more candy she has, the better she will feel. I'll buy the whole bloody store if I have to."

"Draco, you are being absolutely ridiculous, and I will not allow you to buy anymore candy. I can't have the future Mrs. Zabini becoming fat."

"First of all, my sister would never become the future Mrs. Zabini," Draco drawled, casually looking over the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, "and secondly, my sister could be the fattest girl in Hogwarts and you would still love her."

"I never said that I wouldn't." Blaise was silent for a moment, as though he were debating if he should ask something. "Do you think she is upset over Nott?"

Draco frowned, but put the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans down. "Why would she be upset over Nott?"

"Come on, Draco, they were dating since fourth year. Then at the end of last year they break up. Maybe she misses him."

"If she missed Nott, she could have him back. It's obvious he still wants to be with her… She didn't seem bothered by the break up over the summer."

"Well, I think she had other things on her mind then, didn't she?" Zabini countered discreetly, causing Draco to look away, obviously bothered. The dark skinned boy looked at his friend sympathetically for a moment, before continuing on with the subject. "Why did they break up?"

Draco shrugged, "She just said that she didn't have strong enough feelings for him."

"Strong enough feelings for him? Can't you two be normal and just say that she didn't love him?"

"Love is a term we Malfoys don't throw around. You may use it all you want to get into some girl's knickers, but we only use it if we mean it. When we love, we love forever."

"Awww, Draco, I didn't know you were so romantic."

Draco sent the dark skinned boy a glare, "I am not being romantic; I am simply stating a truth. That's why we don't love very many people. If we love someone, we will do anything for them… Even die for them," he added quietly, looking away to allow his emotions fall behind a cold mask. Blaise reached over to comfortingly clasp his friend's shoulder. At the same time Ernie reached over and dragged Neville away from the shelves.

"Why are you so interested in Malfoy?" he asked frowning.

"I'm not," _At least not that one._ "I was just hoping to hear if Gra- his sister was alright."

"Oh… I didn't realize you cared," Ernie said slowly, unconsciously tilting his head a bit.

"When you carry someone bleeding to the hospital wing, you're bound to care how they are."

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Graces waited patiently outside the Three Broomsticks for her brother. She was well aware that she could go in and take a seat, but she couldn't bring herself to enter the establishment alone. She knew that the moment she entered, she would look to see if Neville was enjoying his date with Abbott and even now the thought made her stomach clench with emotions she wasn't willing to look into. So she waited outside, nodding occasionally to fellow Slytherins as they passed her, to go through the doors. She wondered what it would take to convince Draco that they should go somewhere else. She considered playing off her brother's worry, saying that she had a headache and wished to be somewhere quieter, but if she did that he would probably take her straight back to the hospital wing. The last thing Graces wanted at that moment was to be back with Madam Pomfrey after the discussion they had just had.

After the mediwitch had cleared her to leave, she insisted that they talk privately about, as Madam Pomfrey so delicately put it, "personal matters". Graces had not expected that those personal matters would be her sex life. Madam Pomfrey had taken out her file, pushed it towards her and right there, highlighted in her patient information, it said 'sexually active'. Graces had cursed herself for not remembering how medical files were updated in the wizarding world. She should have remembered it was done by a spell, to ensure that all patient information was valid and nothing was ever missed. Of course, the mediwitch had been professional about the whole matter, asking how she was preventing pregnancy, if she wanted to be examined and assured her that her medical files were private on such a personal matter, even from her parents. With that knowledge she had accepted the potion, but refused the examination.

She could tell that the mediwitch had wanted to ask her more personal questions about the matter. She was almost sure she was curious as to whom she had slept with, but Graces would not allow it. It was inappropriate and really not any of her business whatsoever. She had played her father's daughter well through the whole discussion. She was sure that she had looked and spoken like a perfect imitation of Lucius Malfoy. She had answered the question with a mask of perfect ice, glaring down her nose at the mediwitch _daring_ her to have the audacity to ask her anything more personal. The mediwitch seemed to have taken the hint and didn't. Graces had thought that she was going to escape this whole situation without any more awkwardness. Pomfrey had dismissed her from the hospital wing, but then right as she was about to step out of the ward the woman had stopped her.

"Miss Malfoy, I doubt you remember much from yesterday, but I thought you would like to know that Mr. Longbottom refused to leave your side until he was sure you were well. He said that he couldn't leave you with someone you didn't trust. I assume that means that you have placed trust in him." Graces had at the time, though her heart was pounding in her chest, and she made sure to school her face completely blank while she waited for the mediwitch to continue. "That being said, I just wanted to let you know that I can think of no other person more deserving of such trust."

"Do not confuse a lack of distrust with trust, Madam Pomfrey," Graces had replied darkly, scowling at the witch before her. She wondered if Pomfrey knew what had happened between her and Neville. She was certain that Neville would not have told, but was his behavior easily read when he had stayed with her? Graces quickly put those thoughts away as she saw Draco coming towards her carrying bags upon bags of sweets.

_My gods, what has he done now!_ Graces thought affectionately, unable to keep a smile from tugging at her lips.

"Is this for me?" she asked, already peering into a large bag that was filled to the brim with chocolate frogs.

Draco smirked playfully, "Who else would I buy such a ridiculous amount of chocolate for?" Graces smiled appreciatively and plucked one of the chocolates from the top. She immediately felt the stress of her conversation with the mediwitch diminish as the chocolate began to melt on her tongue.

"There, feel better?" Draco inquired, shrinking all the bags and handing them over for Graces to pocket.

"Of course, chocolate makes everything better."

"That is not a healthy way of thinking, Graces," Blaise groaned.

"Why not? It helps after being near dementors and dementors suck every happy feeling and memory out of one's soul. They try to reduce you into becoming like them: empty, soulless, evil, rotting from the inside, until you are so decayed from the person that you once were that you are just an empty shell of flesh that breathes. If chocolate is capable of aiding in the recovery from a dementor attack, then I think it is only fair that we utilize it for aiding in other matters," Graces lectured, tearing off the legs of another chocolate frog and popping them in her mouth.

Draco smiled smugly at his sister's logic as Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I don't think it's healthy, but what do I know? Anyways, I better head in. I have a date waiting for me in there."

"A date?" Graces exclaimed in mock hurt, placing the back of her hand to her forehead and swooning. "Darling, say it isn't so."

"Oh my love, you know it means nothing, just fun and games until you are ready to settle down with me," the dark skinned boy winked before entering into the Three Broomsticks.

Draco was just about to push open the door when Graces placed her hand on his arm, causing him to turn around with a small frown.

"Can't we go somewhere else?" she asked quietly, causing her brother to raise an aristocratic eyebrow in response. "We could just shop or take a walk along the lake," she suggested as her eyes avoided Draco's piercing gaze.

"We always go into the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, always. It's like a tradition for us. You usually look forward to it. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Graces denied, "I just thought we could do something different."

"You've been acting so strange lately," Draco hesitated for a moment, "Is this about Nott?"

"Nott?" Graces asked in surprise.

"Yes… do you miss him?"

"Of course not." Graces scowled and opened the door while shooting her brother a dirty look over her shoulder. "You should know me better than that."

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Neville sat in the booth across from Hannah, trying not to feel so awkward with the situation at hand. He kept telling himself that this was Hannah, they had been friends for years, but a nagging voice in his head kept pointing out that he had never had any real expectations from her before. Ever since he had accepted this date he was beginning to see more and more that Hannah liked him, possibly was in love with him, and she wanted him to feel the same.

"You... uh, you look really nice Hannah," Neville complimented nervously, trying to break the silence that had ensued the moment they sat down. He didn't lie, though. It was true, Hannah did look very nice. Her hair wasn't done in its usual braids and she was wearing a very nice green top that accented the green in her eyes.

"Thanks, I'm so glad that we are doing this, Nev," Hannah gushed, smiling joyously at him. Neville gave a tight smile and nodded in return. "Aren't you happy?" she asked nervously, her smile starting to waver.

"Of course, I guess I'm just nervous," he lied, not wanting to see Hannah hurt. It seemed to quell the worry that had briefly touched her and she reached out, placing a comforting hand on Neville's wrist.

"You don't have to be nervous with me, Nev," she said, smiling sweetly, "after all most people are only nervous on dates because they don't know if the other person fancies them or not and, well, I already fancy you."

Neville winced at Hannah's confession. Luckily, she didn't notice, as she was blushing scarlet at her own boldness and looking away. They sat in awkward silence for a moment. Neville tried to focus on anything but Hannah. He listened to the quiet chatter of the room and looked at all the pictures hanging around the pub that he had never given much thought to before.

"Have you... have you ever been on a date before?" Hannah asked conversationally, though Neville suspected she was genuinely curious.

"Yeah... sort of." He murmured, not really liking where this conversation was going.

"Oh? Who?"

"Well... I, uh, took Ginny to the Yule Ball in fourth year..."

"Does that really count?" Hannah inquired skeptically.

Neville frowned, "Yes, it does." For some reason it bothered him that Hannah didn't seem to think that counted. Maybe it was because he wasn't the most popular guy, to say the least, but he always comforted himself that he at least could find a date to the Yule Ball.

Hannah seemed to realize that she had offended Neville and quickly let the question drop. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

Neville narrowed his eyes at Hannah, "Why are you asking me this?"

"I... I just want to know..." Hannah admitted, nervously playing with a strand of her hair, "I... I'm sorry if I'm ruining this. I've just never been on a date before. And I, well, I suppose I just didn't know what to talk about, and I've been wondering if you have or not. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." she murmured quietly. "I just figured, since we already know one another as friends, maybe we should talk about more personal things."

The sandy haired Gryffindor sighed, "Yes, I have kissed girls." Hannah looked up as though to ask who, but Neville cut her off. "I don't kiss and tell. It's private." And it was private. He had awkwardly kissed Ginny after the Yule Ball, he had thought he should. Seamus, Dean and all the other boys had been talking about kissing their dates like it was expected. It was a total disaster, he had no idea what he was doing and Ginny obviously wasn't expecting it. It was even more mortifying when she made it clear that she just wanted to be friends. He just thanked the Gods that she had never told anyone, especially any of her brothers. Then there was Graces..._ No, I will not think of kissing Graces with Hannah right here._

"H-have you done anything else?"

Neville, who had just pressed his butterbeer to his lips, ended up almost spilling its contents all over himself at the question. "_**That **_is extremely private."

Hannah nodded, and before she could let the subject drop, as she should have, she just continued on with her nervous babbling. "I... I haven't done anything. I've never been on a date before. Did you know that this was my first date? I didn't have one for the Yule Ball, not really. Ernie took Susan Bones. Zach wanted to go stag, but he did dance with me a few times. You did too for that matter; you're a really good dancer." Hannah smiled shyly up at him through her hair. "Though I'm sorry you couldn't say the same for me."

Neville chuckled at the memory, "You weren't that bad."

"I'm pretty sure I broke your toe at one point."

Neville smiled warmly at her, "You just need to practice, that's all. Besides, my gran was dragging me to formal dance lessons the moment I turned six. I had an unfair advantage."

"Maybe you could practice with me?" Hannah suggested hopefully.

"Maybe," Neville repeated distractedly as he noticed Graces walk by him. She didn't even turn or move her head. Neville wondered idly if she even saw him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Neville looked to his side and saw Draco looking down his nose at him, a nasty sneer on his lips. "Could it be, Longbottom, that you actually managed to get a date?" Draco then turned his cold, gray eyes to Hannah, giving her a predatory grin. "Well, if one could call a half-blood a proper date, but I suppose that isn't too bad for you now is it, Longbottom? I mean, it is one step up from a mud-blood and two from a dog. Though, a dog may look better."

Neville let out an angry roar, pouncing up from his seat and whipping out his wand and pointing it at the blond git in front of him. Draco just smiled sadistically at Neville's fury, he already had his wand poised in front of him. "Oh look, the kitten has claws."

Neville bared his teeth as he considered whether or not he could hex Malfoy before he could put up a counter curse; unfortunately he did not get the chance to see. Graces calmly stepped between the two fighting boys, placing her delicate hand on Draco's wand and slowly lowering it until it was pointing at the floor. Draco gazed at his sister with an expression that you could have taken as betrayal, confusion, or both.

"Does my life mean so little to you, brother?" she asked quietly. Neville could only see the back of her head, but he imagined she was staring imploringly at Draco, whose eyes never wavered from hers as his face darkened.

"How could you even ask me such a question?"

"How could you insult the man that aided in saving my life yesterday if you value me? You should be giving thanks to him, not insulting him in this manner." Neville admired how cool and calm Graces could be. She didn't look back at him to see his reaction, and if she minded that he still had his wand out and was pointing it towards her back, leaving her incredibly vulnerable, her body language did not give her away. She acted as though he was not there. "You owe Longbottom an apology, Draco."

The older Malfoy's face hardened at that suggestion, "Absolutely not, Malfoys do not apologize."

"Malfoys also do not act in a way that is dishonorable," Graces countered coldly, sending a shiver along Neville's back. Draco just stared at his sister, clearly unable to believe that she would ever question him like this in public. Graces let out an impatient huff and whirled around so that she was facing Neville. She raised a poised eyebrow at his wand which was still suspended in the air and pointed at her heart. Neville blushed and put it away.

Graces gave him a bemused smile as she took out her own wand and sliced open her palm. Neville couldn't help but admire how she didn't even flinch. Draco took hold of her arm as though to stop her, but she sent him a venomous look that immediately had him backing away. "Thank you for saving my life, Neville Alastor Longbottom. I owe you a life debt and by the blood that flows so freely from my veins, thanks to you, I swear to repay that debt. And I ask also for your forgiveness on behalf of my brother for insulting you earlier."

Neville could not believe that Graces was presenting him with a formal life debt; if he did not accept it her hand would continue to bleed until she died. Wizards and witches rarely gave formal life debts. Not only did she just place her life back into his hands, but as part of the formal life debt he could choose how she would repay him. He had a feeling that she was only doing this because her brother had insulted him in such a way that if she did not their honor would be at risk. If Draco had just apologized, she probably would have just allowed a normal life debt to be between them. One where neither of them had to acknowledge the bond, but if the opportunity ever presented itself she would have to repay the debt.

"I accept, and thank the Gods that life is still within you and that I had the honor to preserve it," Neville replied, thankful that he was raised with some pureblood customs and for once remembered the words to such old rituals.

Graces' hand immediately healed and a faint scar was now visible on her palm, a scar that would not leave her until she repaid her life debt to him. Neville looked up at Graces. Her face was still composed, but it lacked its usual coldness.

"I'm glad to see you're well," the sandy haired boy said giving her a timid smile. "You really scared me yesterday."

Graces actually gave him a genuine smile, "I thought Gryffindors didn't get scared?"

Neville grinned, remembering their conversation in the Greenhouse. "Who told you such a vicious lie?" he asked feigning offense.

Graces actually giggled at the banter and Neville felt something in him stir at the musical sound that was escaping her lips.

"Shouldn't you still be in the hospital wing, though?" Neville asked, concerned.

"Do you think Madam Pomfrey would let me leave if I wasn't well?" Neville was happy to see that Graces was still being friendly towards him.

"Well... no, but you're a Malfoy. I doubt she could stop you."

Graces just smiled warmly at Neville, who couldn't help but give her a shy half smile in return. This was the girl he was falling for, the girl he wanted to see more and more of. She was funny, charismatic, bright, beautiful and had a smile that could instantly make him catch his breath.

An impatient noise from behind Neville shattered their moment. Neville turned to see Hannah impatiently tapping her fingers on the table. Graces, who had not even glanced at Hannah until this point, immediately went back to her original cold demeanor. She nodded formally to Neville as he took his seat back in the booth with Hannah and then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Draco called, looking infuriated beyond belief. "Longbottom has not named how he wants the life debt repaid. Surely you are not going to just walk away without discussing this?"

"Draco," Graces warned darkly staring at her brother with piercing eyes, "that will be between me and Longbottom. Life debts are very private matters, as you well know."

Draco growled and took the seat opposite of Neville, so he was sitting by Hannah who gave an indignant cry. "What are you going to ask my sister for, Longbottom?" Draco's eyes looked almost wild as he glared at him. Neville, startled by how ferocious Draco was being, just stared at him not knowing what to say. "Well?"

Graces calmly came over and sat by Neville placing a hand on the Gryffindor's shoulder. "Draco, stop this. You are behaving like a mad man, what is wrong with you?"

"You made a formal life debt with a known blood traitor! Do you have any idea what kind of power you have given him! Think of what he could ask of you, Graces!"

Graces stilled, as some color seemed to have drained from her face. "Longbottom would never ask anything of me that is too much. He is a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin."

"He is friends with Harry Potter, Graces; do not think for a moment he wouldn't ask something of you for the light."

Graces stared at her brother for a moment, before turning slowly to Neville with her quicksilver eyes. She looked as though she were searching for something as she stared at him, but he didn't know what. Graces had a way of making him feel like his head was open for all his thoughts to be read by her stare.

"You should ask for information about You-Know-Who, Neville," Hannah chided from the booth, unhappy about being ignored for so long. Neville turned and looked at her; she was staring at Draco with a look of utter disdain.

Draco's eyes met his and Neville knew in that moment that he could very well ask such a question. He could see the fear that was etched in Draco's face, how nervous he was despite the glare he was giving him. Part of him knew that asking Graces would be the right thing to do; he could help Harry and possibly save lives, and yet he knew he couldn't ask such a thing. If he did he would endanger Graces.

He turned and looked at the proud girl sitting next ; she looked almost bored as she stared at him waiting for his price. "Would you... if you don't mind... tutor me in potions?"

Graces frowned; clearly she was not expecting such a request. "Tutor you?"

Neville blushed, "Yeah... "

"Don't you have Granger for that?" Graces asked scowling.

"I hear you're a good tutor..."

"Where did you hear that?" Hannah asked clearly as surprised by Neville's request as the rest of the table.

"Just... well... you tutor the younger years, don't you?" Graces nodded, her eyes still studying Neville. "I just thought that maybe you could help me..."

Graces sat back a puzzled look on her face. "I accept."

"Graces," Draco hissed, "you can't spend that kind of time with a known blood traitor! And especially not one that aided in sending our father to Azkaban!"

"Shut up, Draco! You know, considering the things Longbottom could have asked for I would say that I got off extremely lucky. Do not forget that if you hadn't been such an arse, I never would have had to make such a formal vow!" Graces was now standing, trembling with rage. "You said you wanted to spend time with me, that you wanted to make me feel better. You brought me here for a good time, and all you have done since entering this establishment is care more about bothering Longbottom! Do you honestly care more about making his life miserable than making my life happy?! Now I am upset, angry, in debt to Longbottom here and I have a headache!"

Draco and Neville's eyes widened at her last statement. Draco immediately stood and took his sister's arm. "You have a headache? We should go see Madam Pomfrey, how long have you had it?"

Graces wretched her arm away and glared at her brother. "Don't touch me! You don't get to decide now that you want to be my loving brother. I can make it back to Hogwarts without you, thankyouverymuch."

"I can walk with you," Neville offered, standing as though to begin walking with her right then and there.

"Neville!" Hannah cried outraged, "We're on a date!"

Neville flushed, "She can't walk alone, Hannah. She really was hurt yesterday. She had cerebrospinal fluid leaking from her nose; I can't just let her walk alone."

Graces raised an eyebrow at Neville, clearly impressed that he had known what the fluid was, but then schooled her features back into a scowl. "I don't need you playing hero for me anymore, Longbottom. Just stay on your _date_." She spat the last word out as if it left distaste in her mouth just saying it.

"Graces, you are being unreasonable. I am taking you to the castle." Draco looked as though he would just grab her right there and then, but Graces took her wand out threateningly.

"I'll have Blaise take me," she then turned and called Blaise who was in a dark booth a few tables away snogging some Ravenclaw girl senseless.

Blaise stopped his endeavors and smiled, standing up and striding over to the very upset looking group. "My desert blossom! You called and I am here, ask me anything and it shall be yours."

Graces rolled her eyes at Blaise's antics while Neville tried not to show his own jealousy. "Blaise, will you take me to the castle? I have a headache and am mad at my prat brother."

"Zabini is on a date," Neville pointed out, not at all liking the thought of the school casanova taking Graces to the castle. "Why would you allow him to take you and not me?"

Graces stared at Neville as if he had grown another head. She would have thought it obvious as to why she was allowing_ her friend_ to take her over him.

"Because Longbottom, Graces is my future wife and not just a fun shag. She knows that I will tend to her every need." The Ravenclaw girl that he had been sitting with looked on the verge of tears at the handsome boy's proclamation. Graces scoffed and said something about arrogant Slytherins who need to get a grip on reality. "Come, my dear, off to the castle we go."

Draco stood for a few moments, seething in rage, before stomping over to Crabbe and Goyle a few tables over and going on a tirade about how awful it was to have a sister.

Neville returned to his date with Hannah, but it was obvious to both students that it was ruined. Neither one was really focused on each other, both were thinking of the events that had occurred earlier. After a while they made their way back to the castle.

"Why were you willing to leave our date?" Hannah asked, hurt evident in her voice, "You and Malfoy aren't even friends."

Neville sighed. He really didn't have a good answer for that, at least one that would spare Hannah's feelings. He knew he couldn't tell her the whole truth, either. "I guess I just feel responsible in away."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one that should have been watching the plant yesterday. It's my fault that it attacked her like that."

"That's not your fault, Neville," Hannah comforted softly, her face no longer hardened.

"I know, but I still feel guilty."

They walked silently for a while the castle in the distance becoming bigger, little by little, at their every step. "Neville, why didn't you ask her for information? This war is going to be awful; you could have got information that would have saved lives."

"Information that would have cost her hers." Hannah winced at how cold Neville sounded. "I do not want Graces Malfoy's blood on my hands. Having it on me once was enough."

Hannah nodded in understanding. "You're a good man, Neville. Most people wouldn't think of the consequences." She worried her lip for a moment as they entered the castle and stood by the staircases to say their goodbyes. "I know this wasn't the most... well... it wasn't what I expected our first date to be like, but I'm still glad that we went." Hannah had moved closer to Neville so that they were practically touching chest to chest. Her head was tilted up towards him like a sunflower to the sun, and she was so close he could feel her breath mingling with his. He remembered what Ernie had said earlier about her wanting to kiss him and she was sending that message rather bluntly as she stared into his eyes.

The sandy haired Gryffindor became instantly uncomfortable with the situation. He looked away trying to think of something to say, "Listen Hannah, I-" Neville's words were immediately silenced by Hannah's lips pressing against his. It wasn't a long kiss, just a gentle goodnight kiss, completely innocent, but as innocent as it was Neville still couldn't help feeling wrong about it. Hannah's flushed face lingered near his and it was obvious that she enjoyed/appreciated the kiss. Neville wondered if she even realized that he didn't participate. Her arms continued to remain wrapped around his neck and she had a gentle sweet smile on her as she looked down bashfully, clearly not realizing that he wasn't comfortable with the intimacy. _This must be how Ginny felt when I kissed her._

Slowly, so as not to offend Hannah, Neville pulled away. As he did, Hannah moved down from her tip toes and gave him a dazed smile, letting her hands fall from around his neck to against his chest. Neville wished that he could enjoy this. He desperately wished that he could choose to fall in love with Hannah. It made sense to fall in love with Hannah. She should have been everything he could ever want. She was cute, sweet, kind, light, patient and was not from a family where her father tried to kill him months ago. Neville stared down at the girl with sincere regret. He realized that Hannah never would be able to make his blood boil with a fever he never knew existed and that when her lips pressed against his he had felt no compulsion to continue kissing her. He knew that if Graces was standing this close to him his heart would be pounding in his chest with anticipation, and if she had been the one to offer him a gentle kiss good night he would have held her close and kissed her as though she were the anchor to the living world. _Hell, if Graces had kissed me goodnight I probably would have taken her to a dark corner and would still be kissing her. _Kissing Graces was so different in comparison to kissing Hannah that Neville felt it shouldn't even be called the same act.

"Neville?"

Neville pinked, realizing how much time had passed, and forced himself to give Hannah a small half smile. Not knowing what else to say or do, just knowing he needed to get away from this whole situation to think, Neville wished Hannah a good night, before starting up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower.

Neville was halfway up the stairs, still lost in thoughts about Graces, when he noticed that the very person he could not get out of his head was sitting in the middle of the staircase watching him. Graces Malfoy was looking directly at him, a look of hurt fleeting over her face before she schooled it away. It was so brief that Neville thought that maybe he hadn't seen it, but as he drew nearer to her he saw the remnants of a tear on her cheek.

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For the first time in a week, the small aching pain she felt whenever she thought of Neville had disappeared from her. It had fled away since their encounter at the Three Broomsticks. She had been so surprised by how pleasant the encounter was and then even more so when Neville had not taken advantage of her life debt to him. Foolishly, she had decided that she wanted to thank him and even more, foolhardily, she was excited to tutor him. Then she saw him kiss Hannah. Graces cursed herself three times for being so upset. She knew very well that she, Graces Bellatrix Malfoy, should not be crying over Neville Longbottom, but she was. As much as she wanted to believe that she didn't care, she knew now that she did. She hurt somewhere so deep inside her that she was convinced the area had not existed there before.

_I'm an idiot, such an idiot. What's wrong with me? I knew this couldn't be and now here I am crying like some stupid girl over a guy I have no right to want. I shouldn't be here... I shouldn't be here._

_"_I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake." All Graces wanted was to disappear from Neville's stare. She moved from where she was and tried to maneuver past him so he couldn't catch her eye, but the Gryffindor wouldn't let her. He caught her shoulders, in the way that only a Gryffindor would, the way that made a person have to look at them, that forced someone to face them, and did not allow them to move their gaze away.

"You're upset. Why are you upset?"

Graces tried to turn away from Neville's eyes and wished that his voice didn't sound so genuinely concerned. It just made everything hurt more, made her want him more, regret things more.

"I'm not upset. I just... this was a mistake."

"Why is being here a mistake? I don't understand. Graces, what's wrong?"

Graces could feel all her emotions beginning to bubble under the surface of her skin, it felt like ants were crawling from her stomach through her veins, she could barely breath as the feeling in her chest became tighter and tighter. "DON'T!" She pushed away from Neville with such force she almost toppled from the stairs herself. "Just don't," she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat beginning to grow.

She stared at the stones in the wall while she desperately willed herself to get a grip. She couldn't look at Neville, not when he looked at her like that. Like he cared. _He probably does care. Neville Longbottom is the kind of guy that cares when a girl cries. _The lump in her throat began to throb painfully at that thought.

"Graces, what are you doing here?"

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"Don't say my name," Neville sighed and would have protested, but then Graces looked at him and he saw the same brokenness in her eyes he had seen in the greenhouse when she cried and asked him to help take her pain away.

Despite what he wanted, when she looked like that, he couldn't bring himself to protest. "Fine," he said gently, moving up a few steps so that they were closer. "Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

"Yeah! What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron spat from behind Neville with Harry and Hermione close to him.

Neville turned back to see that whatever was exposed of Graces earlier was vanished now from her face. There was no trace of hurt, vulnerability or brokenness, just a contemptuous sneer and cold eyes.

"That is none of your concern, Weasel."

Neville sighed at such a drastic turn of events; this was not supposed to be happening. "Ron, please can you just give us a moment?"

"A moment? Neville, why on earth would you want a moment with Malfoy?" the red headed boy asked, flabbergasted. "What is she even doing here?"

Neville didn't know how to answer that, so he turned towards Graces. Hermione and Harry watched, just as surprised to see a Slytherin so close to the tower. They usually kept far away from one another's common rooms.

"Not that it is any of your concern, but I owe Mr. Longbottom a life debt, we made a formal one earlier and he asked me to tutor him," Graces answered coolly, "I came here to discuss that."

"Why didn't you just discuss it with him in herbology?" Hermione inquired looking at the Slytherin suspiciously.

Graces blushed and looked as though she didn't know how to answer that.

"Wait a minute," Ron broke in, "Neville, she offered you a formal life debt?" Neville nodded slowly. "And you asked for tutoring?! Nev, why didn't you ask for information on You-Know-Who? You saw her father at the ministry. You know her family has information."

A look of realization hit Harry, "He could have asked for that?"

"It's a formal life debt," Hermione said slowly, never removing her eyes from the pair in front of her, "He could have asked her almost anything and she would have to answer or she would die. Neville, I tutor you, why would you ask for tutoring? Do you have any idea how valuable that information would have been to us?"

Neville knew this was not good. Ron was looking at him with betrayal, while Harry and Hermione were just waiting for a reply, obviously waiting to make their judgment.

"I… I..." He looked over at Graces, who was staring at him with such intensity that he wondered if she knew the reason already. "I didn't want her to die. If I asked her to give me that information she would have been killed."

"That information could have saved others!" Ron scolded, his face turning red with frustration and fury. "Her dying would just rid us of another death eater that we would have to fight in the final battle!"

Ron had never seen Neville look so stern; he never thought the shy boy he shared a room with could ever look so much like Snape. "She is not a Death Eater," Neville hissed with venom before turning and grabbing a startled Graces' arm and pulling up her sleeve to expose her bare, pale forearm for them to see. "Look. No mark, she is not a Death Eater, she doesn't deserve—"

***Smack***

Neville put a tentative hand on his burning cheek as the echo from Graces' assault sounded in the stairway. He looked over at Graces in utter shock. She had smacked him. He was trying to defend her and she smacked him.

"You had no right," she said, voice trembling with emotion, before she departed from the group, leaving four very stunned Gryffindors in her wake.

"And you want her to tutor you?" Harry gawked, his green eyes wide with shock. "Merlin's underpants, Neville, she is crazy."

Neville closed his eyes. He could still feel the heat mingled with a sting from Graces slap. "She may be crazy, but she isn't a Death Eater." He turned and looked at Ron. "You had no right to insinuate that her life was not worth saving."

"Come off it, Nev," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "Her father and Aunt were at the Ministry. You know better than anyone where her life is heading."

"She's not there yet," Neville said, standing tall. He was slightly surprised to see that he was almost taller than Ron. He usually was slouching and trying to make himself as small as possible; it was quite the change for him to be standing so tall against Ron. It reminded him of first year when he first stood up to the trio, "and I'm not going to be responsible for her death."

"She's a Malfoy!" Ron protested, looking to Harry to back him up.

"She's a person!" Neville bellowed, heading down the stairs. He decided that the last thing he wanted to do was go up to the Gryffindor tower and be with his roommates.

Neville faintly heard Hermione scolding Ron in the distance, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything with Graces was just so complicated and frustrating. It seemed that for every good moment they had there were five terrible ones. And now she was going to be tutoring him. He silently wondered how that was going to pan out. So far it seemed as though it would be a disaster.

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By the time Graces reached the outskirts of the lake, she realized that she was crying. Everything had just gone so wrong. She had wanted to catch Neville before he reached the tower and thank him. It sounded so foolish now. She knew he was on a date, that Hannah would probably walk with him to the stairs, but she wanted to see him and thank him for not taking advantage of her life debt to him, and for saving her life. A life she now realized was valued so little by others in the school.

_But he values it._

_We'll see how much he values it when you have the Dark Mark on your arm, _a snide voice said in the back of her head.

Graces closed her eyes and tried desperately to will the tears to stop flowing from her. It didn't bother her so much that Neville was defending her; she honestly was flattered that he was so willing to stand up against his friends for her. And it was surprisingly hot to see him go so cold and angry, but he defended her on the grounds that she was not a Death Eater. And he had exposed her arm out to them as though he needed to prove that she was worth defending.

_I need to stop caring; this is getting out of hand. So what if he doesn't think I am worth defending with the mark? It shouldn't matter to me. Odds are one day I am going to be pointing my wand at him with an unforgivable on my lips. I should be thankful that he won't care about me then. It will make it easier to do what I need to do.  
_  
_Why would him not caring make it easier? It shouldn't matter to you anyways. You should be able to kill him regardless of his feelings towards you._

Graces closed her eyes to the cold voice in her head. It was right, it was logical, it made perfect sense in her head, but for some reason it felt wrong. The thought of killing Neville, or even hurting him, made her insides feel as though they were twisting so violently in her that she was going to die herself. The thought of him not valuing her made her want to break down like the girls in soppy veela novels and cry.

"What's wrong with me?" she moaned aloud to the darkness around her, not truly wanting an answer.

"Graces?"

Graces turned, not bothering to hide the tears on her cheeks, and threw herself into Draco's arms. The blond boy was surprised at first, but quickly embraced his sister who began to sob uncontrollably into him.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I didn't mean to... to make you feel like this..."

"Oh Draco, it's not all you," Graces sobbed into his chest, hiding her tears which were beginning to soak his shirt.

Draco stood there for a moment in silence, the only noise being his sister's soft hiccups. "But some of it is..."

"I just wanted to be with you today," Graces said, her voice thick with anguish, "I wanted to spend time with someone who knows and loves me. I'm so scared that you won't be here that much longer, and when you're gone I'll have no one. No one to care about me, to value me, to love and to love me unconditionally."

She clung tighter to Draco as she spoke, using his body to anchor her to the world that she no longer cared to be in.

"This war is going to take everything from me. I've lost father, mother is just a shell without him, and I am going to lose you. I want it to end, can't we leave? Can't we take our money and run away. Live somewhere far away from this war, where no one can find us?"

"And leave mother?" Draco asked with no emotion, "Give up and let father rot away in Azkaban?"

"They made their choices!" Graces wailed pulling away. "Why should we be responsible for saving the damned? Father chose to bow down to that half-blood. We didn't! We still have a chance Draco, please!"

Draco growled and pulled up his sleeve exposing the Dark Mark to his sister, "I have made my choice, Graces. I choose family. I choose the opportunity to gain back what we have lost. I choose father, I choose mother and I choose you. If they are damned, I choose to be damned as well. To run away will seal their deaths, and ours, if we are ever found."

"Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard alive," Graces whispered, not caring how much of a coward she was being. "The Dark Lord is afraid of him. How will you manage to kill him? The Dark Lord gave you this mission to kill you. When you are gone he will turn and come after me next!"

"You don't think I know all this?" Draco hissed, "Do you not think that I lay in bed contemplating what will happen to you, to mum, if I fail? I am well aware of the situation we are in. Father's responsibilities to our family have fallen onto my shoulders! Your life is now in my hands! If I fail your death is on me! The only thing I have to be thankful for is that I will at least not have to witness it, BECAUSE I WILL BE KILLED FIRST!"

Draco watched as his sister cried freely into the palms of her hands. He had no idea what comfort to give her. Any comfort he gave her would only soothe momentarily, she needed to accept what was happening and live with it. He could not lie or sugar coat what was to come, because doing that would be doing more harm than good in the end.

_Why does she need to prepare for what is to come? Her arm is unmarked, she is the youngest and there is no responsibility on her shoulders yet. You want her to stay and be strong for you, because you, despite your facade, __**need her.**__ She still has a chance to go away, to flee and to live out a life far away from this destruction._

Draco closed his eyes and willed the next words out of his mouth. They felt heavy on his tongue and he could feel them even as they escaped his lips trying to choke him. "You can leave. I will empty a vault for you and you can leave. Live among muggles for the rest of—"

"I'm no coward!" Graces screamed, wiping away the remnants of her tears and facing her brother head on. Her eyes, despite the redness encircling them, looked as savage as fire. "Where you go, I go. If you are to stay, so shall I. I love you, I would rather _die_ living out my time with the ones I love than hide away and live without. I was willing to run if it would mean you running with me. If you won't, I won't."

"You don't have to, though," Draco knew he was close to tears; his voice was thick from not allowing them to come. "You were right, we are not responsible for saving the damned. I have made my choice, but you still could choose another path. And I would be happy knowing you were alive and well somewhere far away."

Graces let out a strangled sob before throwing her arms around Draco's neck in a tight embrace. "Not without you. We will face all of this together." Graces forced a small, encouraging smile. "Maybe it will all work out and you will kill that old bat. You did, after all, manage to break Potter's nose before school even started.

Draco chuckled, "Yes, too bad he fixed it before everyone could admire my handiwork." They sat down by the lake, both acknowledging without words that this discussion was over. They knew that if they allowed it to, their worry would overtake their lives, that this would be the center of their thoughts to the point where they would drive themselves mad. The future was up in the air; the best course of action was to allow what comes to come and live their lives without the shadow of death darkening it.

"I really need you now," Draco admitted softly, admiring the night sky over the lake and wondering if he would be allowed such comforts for much longer.

Graces just leaned her head down on her brother's shoulder in reply. She was there, she wasn't going to leave, they were family. She didn't need to say pointless assurances to tell Draco that. He knew because she was sitting there now. Everything else in her life she was unsure of, but Draco was a constant. She now at least knew where she stood with him and with this war. She stood not on the Dark Lord's side, but on her brother's. If he stood beside a crazed mad man, then she stood there too. Everything else was complicated, but at least this was not.

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**The next chapter is my personal favorite! I'm extremely excited to have you all read it! If I could I would post it right now, but if I did then you would see how awful I am with commas. **

**Please continue to review/follow! I really enjoy getting those notifications, makes all the hours of writing well worth it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Author's notes: I am sooo sorry this chapter is so late on being submitted. Both my betas had very busy schedules and this was a very long chapter for them to edit.**

**If you are able to understand the first paragraph of this chapter you should definitely be thanking Aurthurdent2. Apparently what I had written first was extremely confusing haha, but she caught it and fixed it while adding her own special flair. She also added some of her flair to a few other paragraphs too. Also, did you know that Denarii is like an expert in all things canon? Well, he is. And he is such an amazing help when it comes to suggesting better spells for me to use. He caught a huge mistake in spell use that I would never have realized was a mistake. So kudos to my amazing betas.**

**Special thanks to BlueRose22, Phoenix, Savannah's Angels, Chazz, and Guest for their reviews! You guys are great, I really appreciate it!**

Chapter 8

Neville, with nothing else to do, thought about the night before. He had spent his time not gaining necessary sleep—which he hadn't properly had in what felt like ages—but instead wandering the halls of Hogwarts and trying to understand Graces' reaction on the staircase. He had decided that Graces Malfoy must be five different people in one body; it was the only explanation for how drastically her person changed on a daily basis.

That being decided, he realized that he was more dim than he thought before. Despite his realization that Graces was insane, he was still hiding out in the hall by the library, wasting the last precious hours of his weekend and waiting for her to appear. He had considered just venturing in, asking for a private word with her and getting this whole mess over with, but he didn't fancy having half the Slytherin house taking notice of him. He knew, without a doubt, that Graces would have been, if possible, even more cold towards him with her house watching, so he waited. He still had no idea what he was going to say to her. He wanted to ask why she was on the stairs, why she was upset that day in Herbology, why she insisted on being so cruel towards him one minute and then pleasant the next, but he had no idea how to articulate into words what he was feeling or thinking. He wondered if Graces even knew herself how she felt.

Quiet murmurs alerted him that the young Slytherins were done being tutored and were beginning to exit the library. Neville peeked out from the corner and watched as they all turned down the hall towards the dungeons.

"Higgs, could you hold on a moment?" Graces voice called out to a group of 3rd years. Neville watched as a small boy walked slowly over to her. Neville tried to get a look at the young boy plodding towards Graces. He could see that he had dark hair, but his face was hidden from view as he looked down at his shoes. He appeared to be small for a third year, but Neville realized as the boy came closer that he only appeared that way because of how he held himself.

Graces said nothing at first. She stared down at the shy boy for a moment, obviously scrutinizing every detail of him. Neville watched as Graces then reached out her hand and placed a delicate finger under the boy's strong chin. She pulled his head up before smoothly walking around him, pressing her hand gently in the middle of his back, pulling back his shoulders gently, until his posture was as perfect as her own. The boy blushed, but maintained the position she had arranged him in.

"You are a Slytherin and a pureblood. I will not have you holding yourself with anything less than pride. You are a representative of our house and of your lineage. Do you understand?"

The small boy nodded at Graces' words, which caused her to give him a scolding look. "Y-y-yes."

"Good," Graces said in a clipped voice, before smiling softly and kneeling down so that she was just a bit below the young boy. She turned to her side and took out the drawing that had been at her bedside when she was in the hospital wing. "This is lovely, Thomas," she said quietly, letting the gratitude show in her face.

"I'm g-gl-glad y-you l-like it," Thomas stuttered, his face clearly straining against his speech impediment. It was obvious that the boy was embarrassed by his speech; Neville was even embarrassed for him. He remembered how cruelly everyone would taunt Professor Quirrell behind his back. He could only imagine how this boy was taunted. He was, after all, in Slytherin, a house whose occupants were known to be especially cruel.

Graces just continued to smile at him with a soft expression as though she didn't notice. "You're very talented Thomas; I've never had a more beautiful picture of myself," she paused for a moment and smiled in that way that could melt a heart and steal breath, "Or a more thoughtful gift. When did you draw it?"

Thomas licked his lips and closed his eyes. "T-the f-first we-we-week this s-s-s-emes-ster."

Graces just nodded before standing up gracefully and pressing a gentle kiss on the nervous boy's cheek. His eyes widened considerably for a moment before he schooled an indifferent face on, but that still didn't hide his blush.

"You may go now, Higgs," Graces dismissed, her voice back to one that mirrored McGonagall's. "Be sure to rewrite that paragraph before you turn it in to Flitwick; he's a stickler for concept theory."

Graces watched him go, a curled finger hiding the amusement on her lips. Neville stood in the shadows, not wanting to break this moment. He wanted to forever memorize the tender look on Graces' face as she watched Higgs go down the hall. In the quiet stillness of that moment, Neville knew who Graces was. Everything she was in front of people was a facade, but the girl he had seen when no others were around was the true Graces Malfoy. And Graces Malfoy was amazing. She was sweet, funny, selfless, strong, smart, witty and incredibly tender hearted. Neville knew that she was just as flawed, and that she was more harsh than she was kind. Every snide remark, every hostile glare could be easily forgotten when he saw her in moments like this. He was now convinced that he would rather deal with her bad moments if her good ones were this wonderful.

"A bit too young for you, don't you think?"

Neville looked over, behind Graces, to see Theodore Nott standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the cool stone of the castle. Neville frowned, there was something in the way Nott was looking at her that made him wary. He saw a brief flicker of rage cross Graces' face before she schooled it away and turned to face the tall boy.

"He's not that much younger," Graces noted casually, her face cool and unfriendly. "He would be a suitable match, after all: pureblood, rich, Slytherin, neutral in the war and he is from a good, respectable family."

Nott's eyes flashed with something unknown for a moment before he moved off the stone wall and came closer to where Graces was standing. "A suitable match? I never thought you would care for a husband that could barely speak."

"Maybe I like the strong silent type."

"I would hardly say that Higgs is strong."

"Anyone who can live in a pureblood society with a flaw such as his and still manage to uphold their family name and honor is strong. And in case it has escaped your notice, he is a second year who has MASTERED non-verbal spells."

Nott snorted, "Out of necessity."

"When he is a man, no one will care that he mastered it out of necessity, people will only see him as a man they should be wary of, with such strong magic. Magic like that can make people forget. Even now I can see the fear beginning to emerge in his peers' eyes. Most students are not even aware of his problem. He hides it so well, never speaking in front of other houses, remaining silent during class and even in the halls being mindful of his company. With the proper posture and look, he will be viewed as a looming figure that quietly calculates his enemies' downfalls. The man that does not speak gives nothing away. All he needs is for someone to show him how to be that man."

Nott was now pinching the bridge in between his eyes, clearly frustrated with the conversation. "I always manage to forget that when it comes to the younger years you're like a Hungarian Horntail protecting her young. Can we please start over, please?"

"There is no such thing."

Nott took a deep breath and put his hand out as though to pull Graces towards him, but the blond girl moved sharply away her hand now stretched forward with her wand. "I just... Merlin, Graces, I miss you. I just want to talk to you. You didn't reply to a single owl I sent you over the summer and you returned the card and flowers I sent you in the hospital wing."

"I would think," Graces said slowly, her wand never wavering from the boy in front of her, "that based off of all that, you would get the hint that I want nothing to do with you."

Nott pressed forward, his chest now touching the end of her wand, "I know you care about me. If you didn't you would have told your brother and—"

"Has it ever crossed your mind that I did not tell my brother because you are of no great consequence to me? I wouldn't waste my or his efforts on seeking vengeance on you," Graces interrupted coldly, placing her wand in her robes and turning to leave.

"Graces, please! I love you."

Graces paused for a moment before turning around and moving so that she was toe to toe with Nott. Neville would have thought she was going to kiss him, if her face didn't look so dark. "You don't know what that word means," she whispered venomously, causing the boy in front of her to take a step back while Neville leaned in closer to hear more. "Because if you did then you would have never told me that then went and fucked some Ravenclaw girl when we were still together!" Nott stumbled back from the blow to his chest that Graces had given him. "How dare you betray me like that and then stand before me and proclaim that you love me."

"I do love you!" Nott pleaded, trying desperately to convince the girl before him that he was being sincere.

Graces watched Nott plead for a moment, her face never losing its obvious disgust. "Maybe you do love me, and if that is the case, your love isn't worth anything. It certainly isn't good enough for me."

"Graces," it was obvious that Nott was trying to sound patient and understanding but was close to losing his composure. "I realize that was deserved, that I hurt you and—"

"The only thing you hurt, Theodore, was my pride. That is the only thing you can claim to have affected me on. I didn't weep over the loss of you, I only seethed in fury that you had betrayed me. I would never have gone to bed with another man if I was already spoken for."

"That's easy for you to say isn't it? You won't go to bed with anyone." Nott scoffed, a sneer outlining his lips. "What did you expect Graces? I tell you I love you, and you don't say it back. Yet, you expect me to remain faithful, when all you allow me to do is snog you? And even then you don't seem too into it. Do you have any idea how many girls have thrown themselves at me? How many opportunities I have had to go to bed with other girls? Does all the times I remained faithful to you mean nothing?"

"You are absolutely right Theo, how could I have been so selfish," Graces said mockingly, "Thank you sooo much, Theo, for not screwing all those other girls. Of course I forgive that you fucked some little tart and didn't even have the decency to shower her off of you before seeing me. I was such a horrid girlfriend for not letting you bed me. I mean, you were always trying just so hard to get me to, and I just let all your efforts go to waste. It's no wonder you did what you did. After all, it was my fault for not sleeping with you, for not _loving_ you."

Nott flushed, "That's not what I was saying."

"Oh, but it's what you think isn't it, Theo?" The silence seemed to be reply enough for Graces. "Your love and devotion is ignoble."

"That's at least better than yours, which is non-existent," Nott replied, in a pathetic attempt to regain some dignity.

"I'll have you know, Nott," Graces said, her voice laced with venom "that I love more passionately and with more devotion than you could ever hope to imagine, and the people I choose to love are those that can match mine. I would lay my life down for any of the people in my life that I love. Granted, I only love three people in this world, but at least the love I offer is real. You claim to want something with me and then go off and screw some girl and try to tell me it was nothing. If you loved me then you wouldn't sleep with some random girl, knowing how intimate I found that act to be. It's no wonder I never felt comfortable enough to do that with you. Now that we are through, I see that you are the last man I could ever bring myself to sleep with."

Graces turned to leave, obviously believing that the Slytherin wouldn't have a retort to any of what she said.

"I highly doubt I am the last," Nott protested, "I doubt you would be willing to bed someone like… someone like _Neville Longbottom_ before me."

Neville flushed at the comment, but saw Graces smirk wickedly to herself before turning to face her ex. "I would gladly let Neville Longbottom take me to bed over you. I bet he kisses in ways that would set my blood on fire, and make me ache with need that you never could make me feel. I bet that, just like with plants, he knows exactly how and where to touch to make me lose myself in sensation. He may not be the most powerful boy at this school and he may not be the smartest, but at least he has integrity. Neville Longbottom is a far greater man now than you will ever be."

Nott was visibly seething at Graces passionate speech, his jaw was tight as he clenched his teeth and Neville readied his wand, expecting him to go forward and strike Graces. "I would be very careful of what you say, Malfoy," he bit out, "I understand you are mad and are saying such things to hurt me, but if anyone heard you talking about a blood traitor like that..." Nott let his sentence trail off, leaving Graces to imagine exactly what could happen, before stomping past her down the hall.

Neville stood there in awe of all that he had heard. He wondered if Graces was hurt by Nott's adultery. He would have certainly been crushed if a girl he had been with for two years had slept with another guy. He had a hard time believing that Graces' pride was the only thing hurt. It was hard to tell with Graces, she hid her emotions so well, he hoped that she wasn't wounded by Nott's infidelity. Neville hated the thought of Graces sitting alone crying to herself over a waste of a man like Nott.

_Nott is a fool, the best plants often need more time and tending before they give any signs of budding. If she didn't want to have sex, he should have waited and tended to her needs, enjoying the time he spent with her, he should have tried to know her better. If I were him I wouldn't have cared so much about that, I know for a fact it would have been worth the wait._

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Graces watched as Nott went down the hall back to the Slytherin dorms. She would have expected her heart to be beating vigorously from the confrontation, but it wasn't. If anything she felt euphoric. She didn't have any feelings for Nott. That realization came long ago when she found out he cheated on her. He had walked over to her in the common room after studying with his Ancient Runes partner and she could smell the girl's perfume mingled with the musky scent of his sweat. Of course, that wasn't the only sign. What made the situation all too obvious was when he had bent down to kiss her. There was no hiding the unfamiliar taste on his lips, the taste of another woman. It didn't take a genius to realize what had happened. She should have stood and raged in front of the whole common room at his fornication, but in reality she didn't even care that he had been with another. She only wanted to keep the student population from knowing her embarrassment.

Humiliated, but still wanting to keep up appearances, she had calmly asked Nott to accompany her on a late night stroll. It wasn't until they were alone, outside the castle, that she coolly stated, "I think it rather pointless for us to be together, now that you have found company in another girl's bed." And that had been it. Nott, of course, said the usual things: that it was a mistake, it would never happen again, that he loved her, asked her to give him another chance etc., but she had been able to shrug off each claim and plea. She hadn't cared. It was really an awakening to how little she felt for him.

She smiled to herself, she couldn't help but be thankful that she wasn't the type of girl to give any sort of feeling to a boy like Nott. Even now, after their harsh exchange, she didn't hate him. Hate was too strong of a feeling to devote to someone so unworthy of attention. She had, admittedly, enjoyed cutting him down with her words, but she was a Malfoy. They always enjoyed such pastimes with those who had wronged them.

She began walking down the other hall. She should have started her prefect rounds half an hour ago, but the confrontation had kept her from her duties. Not that she minded, being late for rounds was well worth the look on Nott's face when she told him she would let Longbottom bed her. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm and she was being pulled sideways into a dark room. Graces felt her heart jump into her throat as the rest of her body began to be flooded with a mixture of adrenaline and panic.

_Don't allow your fear to overpower you, always think, Graces. What will be your attacker's next move, think. _Graces could hear her father's voice sounding inside her headand thanked the heavens that he had prepared her for things like this. She pulled a dagger from her robes, just as her assailant reached out to grab what he thought was her wand from her hands. A sharp hiss of pain and the feeling of warm blood dripping on her hand let her know that her plan had worked. Graces took advantage of her attacker's initial shock. In three swift, precise movements she pulled herself away from her attacker, pinned him to the wall and had her dagger right against his Adam's apple, ready to slice him open. Graces was prepared for a multitude of possible assailants under her dagger, anyone from a wizard her father had scathed in the past to a boy who thought he could have his way with her. What she wasn't prepared to see was Neville Longbottom under her blade. Shocked, she dropped her weapon and took a step back.

"Are you mad?!" Neville exclaimed, cradling his injured hand to his chest. "Who on earth goes around carrying daggers like that?!"

"Am I mad? Who goes dragging witches into dark closets? AND a dark witch to boot? I swear you Gryffindors have a death wish," Graces fumed, now understanding why people grabbed their own hair in frustration.

"I wouldn't have had to drag you if you would just be a _normal person_ and talk to me."

Graces took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that she was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not stick their tongue out at boys that they had just cut with a dagger. "Longbottom, there is nothing for us to talk about besides potions and plants."

Neville's eyes narrowed at the stubborn blond before him. He was about to retort, to tell Graces that they most certainly had other things to discuss, when he felt an odd warming sensation spreading through his hand slowly to his wrist. When he looked down he saw that the veins in his hand, usually not visible, were now turning black. He watched as the color slowly creeped up his arm, like black roots taking hold in his skin. "You poisoned that dagger, didn't you?" he muttered hollowly, not allowing himself to truly take in what was happening.

Neville waited for Graces reply and closed his eyes as only silence filled the room. When he did look up, Graces was looking at his hand with such panic that Neville realized that whatever poison she had used must have been incredibly bad.

_I should have figured, she's a Malfoy. She probably put the most dangerous poison she could think of on that dagger._

Neville began trembling violently as he considered what kind of poison the blonde must have used on him. The slight burning sensation and the fact it was using his veins let him know that whatever poison she used was going straight to his heart to kill him. He was honestly more surprised that she had chosen a slow poison.

"What poison is on that dagger?" Neville said vacantly, looking away from the girl before him, and back to his hand.

"Ardenis Radis," Graces admitted softly, looking over to the door. Neville couldn't tell if she was speaking to him or to herself. "It burns through the victims veins, causing them to bleed out some, before shooting up through the vessels into the heart. There it catches the organ on fire. Ordinarily, the victim dies within minutes... minutes of sheer agony. That's all most of its victims have to withstand, but I placed a preserving potion in it. It allows the potion to move through the veins slowly and let the heat grow slowly as well. With my modifications the death would take three hours instead of three minutes, the heart burning slowly before being set aflame."

"That's... that's... to even brew that potion is a life sentence in Azkaban, to use it is a dementor's—" Neville let the statement drop, Graces' eyes were closed and her breathing was erratic. Neville knew he should be panicking, but he wasn't. He honestly didn't feel anything, other than a mild warming sensation gently spreading in his arm. "You should go before someone sees, before you're caught."

Graces eyes flew open and her mouth dropped slightly, "I wouldn't leave you like this."

"There's nothing you can do. I doubt Pomfrey has the antidote. I doubt anyone does. It takes three months to make, and since no one has made that potion since the dark ages there is no point in both of us losing our lives. Go."

"You stupid Gryffindor. Do you think I would make that poison without making the antidote? I have the antidote."

"Then why do you look so frightened?"

Graces didn't answer, instead she took hold of Neville's good hand and began dragging him through the castle out the main doors. It was so dark that the grass spreading before them looked black and the small amount of light that was emitted was from the night's stars and the glow from the gamekeeper's hut in the distance. Neville should have been focused more on what was happening, but in actuality his thoughts were with Graces and the fact that she was holding his hand.

"Longbottom, do you trust me?"

Neville nodded, then realized that Graces couldn't see his answer as she was walking in front of him. "With my life."

Graces looked back at him for a moment and muttered something about stupidity and Gryffindors as she continued towards the hut. "Wait here," she ordered, hiding Neville behind a barrel by the door.  
A few moments after Graces knocked on the door, Hagrid appeared with Fang on his heels.

"Malfoy, bit late to be wantin the key isn' it?" Hagrid's rugged voice echoed through the doorway. Neville wanted to peek his head out a little more to see what Hagrid's face looked like. He didn't know if Hagrid liked Graces, he imagined he would have reason not to after the stunt her father and brother pulled third year with trying to get Buckbeak put down and him sacked. Then again, Hagrid was the most understanding and gentle soul Neville had ever met, he doubted that he would hold a grudge against anyone.

"I know." There was silence for a few moments, Neville wondered what Graces needed with a key and how often had she been coming here asking Hagrid for one. It seemed like this was a normal routine for the two.

"Well, they do seem to like you. Always perky after a night with you, suppose they like the attention. Don' get much of that from other students; mostly 'cause other students can't see 'em and the ones that can, well, people don't much like being around me."

"I'll clean the stalls," Graces offered quietly, Neville could hear from her voice that she was uncomfortable talking to the gamekeeper.

"You always do, but still it's late. No offense, Malfoy, but you look like you could use some decent sleep."

"I'm fine!" Graces exclaimed, desperation mingling in with her usually calm voice. "Please, I swear I am fine. Please."

"Ya never did tell me why you liked being around them so much," Hagrid said gently, obviously offering Graces a sort of quid pro quo agreement.

Neville chanced a sight at Graces and saw that she clearly did not like this agreement. Reveal something about herself and be allowed the key. 

"It's… well... it's… its silly…"

"I'm sure I've heard and thought sillier things. Besides I won't be telling anyone. I've kept this secret enough haven't I? Merlin knows your father would throw a fit if he knew how often you spent time in a barn cleaning pens and talking with half-breeds."

"I never said that you were," Graces mumbled quietly, looking down.

"But ya think it, don't you?"

Graces swallowed hard and closed her eyes still examining the floor, before she pulled herself up tall and met Hagrids stare.

"People are so frightened of thestrals because they hate that they are a reminder that we all will one day meet the same fate. You and I may share nothing else in common, but we will both die. They're frightened of them, because most people can't face that simple fact of life that we are all limited to our time here on earth. They label them dark because they represent death, which makes no sense because death is just as certain for light wizards and witches as for dark. No one cares what is pulling the carts to the castle until they can see them and then instead of being in awe of such a creature they are frightened and don't stop thinking of why they can see them. They don't see how beautiful they are, how graceful. They're lovely, really. They're always playing on the grounds and they don't care if people can see them or not. They're not bruised that people cringe away from them. They go about their lives free from judgment because they choose to be."

There was a pregnant silence for a moment before Hagrid asked awkwardly, "Do you feel judged?"

"I'm a Slytherin," Graces replied with cold dignity, "My house is always judged. Evil, right? That's what the school believes. I believe you have even made mention of it."

"Well you know," Hagrid started embarrassed, "I didn' mean all of you lot. Just most dark wizards do come from that house."

"More Order of Merlins have been given to Hufflepuff and no dark wizard has come from that house and yet Gryffindor is still seen as the good and noble house despite people like Pettigrew coming from there."

"Well…" It was clear that Hagrid was at a loss as to what to say and very uncomfortable with the cold glare he was receiving from Graces. "Can't really argue with that, can I? Tell you what, Malfoy, I'll let you have the key, but promise me you will get some rest. I heard about your accident in Herbology and honestly don't think it is helping you much to be up like this."

"Thank you, Professor Hagrid," Neville let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding at the loss of venom in Graces' voice. "I will. I promise though, I'm fine. Good as new."

The light from the inside of the hut disappeared as Hagrid shut the door. Graces waited a moment, listening to make sure Hagrid was away from the door and back in bed, before she turned towards Neville.

"We have to go quickly; we don't have much time before you start to feel pain." Neville gulped audibly and prayed that Graces didn't notice, but based on the small glance she tossed over to him, she had. "I... I should have told you earlier, but, well, the antidote is very painful. Almost as painful as the poison."

Neville had not heard yet about what the antidote could do, but he knew that the poison running through his veins now was so painful that most victims committed suicide or had someone else kill them before the poison could run its course. Its victims could not even take that amount of pain for a few minutes. Neville just stared at the blonde before him. He had convinced himself that she was not evil, not a Death Eater yet, still able to reach salvation, but looking at his arm now his black veins becoming dangerously closer to his chest he wondered if he had been wrong.

"I will fix this." They were in the barn now and Neville was seated on a wooden chair. He had not even realized that they had entered. He could see the thestrals all around him and shuddered. Graces' hand was on his cheek, warm and soft against his clammy skin. She was on her knees in front of him, her eyes pleading for him to listen to her. "I will fix this. Do you still trust me?"

"How could you brew that potion? And actually make it worse for its victims? Why would you do such a thing, want to put someone in that much pain?"

The blonde leaned away from him and snapped back her hand as though it had been burned from Neville's skin. Neville was about to continue in his questioning until searing pain engulfed his arm and his heart felt as if someone was holding a hot coal to it. He screamed, falling off the bench and onto the dirty hay covered floor. It hurt, more than anything he had ever felt before. It hurt just as bad as the Cruciatus curse and, Neville realized with stunned horror, that this still wasn't the full extent. Graces made it so it would build in the hours to come. He wanted desperately to pass out, he could feel darkness unfolding around his eyes, but anytime he reached out to go into the darkness a blaze of light would erupt and he would be more aware of the pain he was in.

The pain was so extensive he didn't realize that he had somehow ended up in a trough of cold water stripped to his boxers and undershirt, and that Graces was on top of him fighting to keep him in the trough as she poured the antidote into the water and made long cuts on his arms and legs, causing black liquid to slowly seep out of him. As soon as his open wounds had mingled with the potioned water it felt like a war raging under his skin. It hurt, if possible, more violently than before. Neville felt as though he were fighting flames with his fist. There was nothing he could do, he was helpless. He no longer cared about the antidote, he just wanted everything to end. Nothing could possibly feel worse than this. The coal that had originally felt like it had been pressed to his heart to burn him now felt as though it had been pushed through and was inside his heart and something was violently trying to rip it out of him.

"Stop fighting me!" Graces desperately pleaded, as she tried to keep Neville inside the trough so the poison would leave his body. All of her energy and magic was being pushed into her arms and legs to give her enough strength to hold Neville down, but she knew magical exhaustion was going to creep up on her eventually. If it came to that, she would not be able to hold Neville down any longer and the poison would be left inside him. In a desperate move, she lifted her hands off the boy beneath her and scrambled to get her wand out. Neville, far from reality, pushed Graces violently off him, sending her hard onto the wooden floor as he tried to escape. Graces fumbled through her robes a few seconds more and finally pulled out her wand. She quickly cast incarcerous on Neville and breathed a sigh of relief when the sandy haired boy was forced to stay in the trough.

Graces lifted herself off the floor and hissed as she felt how sore her muscles were from wrestling Neville down. Neville was now shaking violently in the black water, his face paler than a ghost's, and he was muttering words under his breath that the Slytherin couldn't bring herself to listen to. Hesitantly, she reached out and gently pat his forehead. "Longbottom, listen to me. Please try to focus on me." Neville just gritted his teeth against the pain. Graces wondered if he was even able to hear her.

Graces finished putting in the rest of the potions and Neville instantly felt a bit of relief in his chest. The pain wasn't all gone, but the burning in his heart subsided greatly and that was the worst of it. He breathed heavily and opened his eyes, looking at Graces. He was still shaking from the pain that was still lingering, but he was no longer being driven mad.

"Distract. Me," he bit out through gritted teeth, looking up at Graces through lidded eyes.

"Uh, how?"

Neville just shook violently and closed his eyes. "Tell... me... something... about... you."

Graces bit her lip and debated telling him something about herself. It was an odd request and she didn't want to tell him anything about herself that would be distracting. "Wouldn't you rather just... think of Hannah? Like your date with her? How pretty she looked in her blouse? How you felt when you, well, ended the date?"

Neville just shook his head and then the second potion seemed to be finally working because his veins were finally returning to a normal color and the water in the trough began to steam as heat left Neville and went into the cool water. Neville hissed as the hot water stung his skin. He moved against the ropes as though to get up, but Graces pushed him back down. "I know a lot of the pain is gone, but the poison is still in you. You must stay in here all night, if you don't some poison will remain in you and the antidote won't work without me starting a new one and unfortunately I only have one brew."

Neville nodded and forced himself to relax in the trough just his head out of the water. His skin burned, his muscles ached and his heart felt like it had been badly burned and was throbbing in pain. On top of that, he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach from having such a toxin in him. Every once in awhile he still felt shooting pain in his chest causing him to wince noticeably. "Tell me something now," he commanded after another shot of pain coursed through his heart.

"Wouldn't you rather—"

"No! I want to know something about you, something no one really knows, and considering what I am going though at the moment, I think it is the least you could do."

Graces hesitated, "I—" she paused again and looked at Neville, "You can't tell anyone, Longbottom, okay?" Neville just rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement as another shot of pain coursed through him, causing him to grunt. "I, well, Ilikemugglemusic."

Neville stared at Graces in shock. "No way."

Graces blushed, a deep shade of red, and turned away as though the corner of the room had just become very interesting.

"But... but you're a Malfoy. You hate muggles. You think they should all be dead."

Graces continued to look anywhere but at Neville. "I... I just like it."

"I think I am in shock," Neville whispered, still looking at Graces. "I can't feel anything anymore. You just put me in shock. A Malfoy who likes muggle music, Merlin's beard. How did you ever even get into muggle music?"

Graces continued to blush and look away. "I, well, I passed by Thomas one day in the courtyard and he and Granger were listening to the radio, but it was the wizard station that played muggle music for mudbloods to listen to." Neville ignored Graces' racial slur and continued to listen. "And, well, I really liked the song and I couldn't get it out of my head so I started listening to the station to hear the song again and in doing that I heard so many other and, well, I like it. And Malfoy's don't really deprive themselves of things they want, so I just continued to listen to it."

"What was the song?"

Graces looked at Neville her eyes and face bespeaking her hesitance. "The Sound of Silence."

"Is that your favorite?"

"Umm," Neville watched as Graces thought about her answer. "No, I suppose not. I don't really have a favorite."

Neville couldn't help but smile. "Too many to choose from, huh?" Graces nodded awkwardly, clearly wanting the discussion to end. "I, umm, well I like muggle music too."

"I'm not surprised," Graces said, rolling her eyes, but Neville didn't hear any true coldness in her words and he saw a hint of a smile playing on the corner of her lips. A smile that she was clearly trying to shake off.

"Maybe when you tutor me, we can listen to music?"

Neville watched as Graces narrowed her eyes on him. "Am I still going to tutor you?"

"It's not really an option, now is it? You owe me a life debt."

"You're not going to turn me in?"

"Why would I tell you to leave me to die when I thought you had no antidote and let you drag me to a barn to save me instead of taking me to Pomfrey if I was planning on turning you in? I clearly am allowing you to play doctor to protect you."

Silver eyes looked over the water into brown ones. Neville felt exposed like the eyes looking at his were searching through his thoughts. He squirmed in the hot water and tried to focus on breathing regularly so that she wouldn't notice that he was uncomfortable with her looking at him. Then he realized how underdressed he was in front of her and was even more uncomfortable with her looking at him. He was just thankful that the water was so dark from potion and blood that she couldn't possibly see anything.

"I've seen everything anyways, no need to get bashful, Longbottom," Graces teased, smiling wickedly.

Neville blushed, but still squirmed a bit. "Do you know legilimency or something?"

Graces gave a smirk that resembled her brother's. "I do actually, I'm very skilled at it too." All the blood that was left in Neville seemed to go cold in his veins. "Not to worry, Longbottom, I have not invaded your privacy. Your mind is untouched. I just could tell what you were thinking based off you're squirming and putting your hands in front of you."

Neville let out a relieved sigh at that.

"Is there a reason you don't want me rummaging through your thoughts?"

"Would you want me rummaging through yours?"

"Answering a question with a question, how Slytherin of you, Mr. Longbottom," Graces complimented, smiling.

The sandy haired boy just smiled, unsure of what to say then, he could feel his face flushing with heat that was definitely not from the poison. Was Graces flirting with him? It seemed that way.

Graces seemed to have caught onto this as well because after a moment she shook her head, cleared her throat awkwardly and began to rummage through her bag, her face expressionless once again. She removed the spell that was holding Neville down and then held out a vile to him. "Here, drink this. It's blood replenishing potion. The antidote is great in that it saves you from a horrible death, awful in that it slowly drains away your blood with the potion."

Neville took the potion in hand and drained its contents, cringing at the oily texture and coppery taste. Graces took away the bottle and handed him a large piece of chocolate without making eye contact or saying a word. Neville murmured thanks and nibbled at the chocolate. He felt as though he were out of the woods. The pain was still there but it was nothing compared to earlier. The new blood flowing through his veins felt less tainted in his skin. He opened his mouth to tell Graces, so she would know all was going to be well, when his heart gave a leap in his chest before it started to burn like acid on skin.

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Graces cursed aloud when she saw Neville doubled over in pain again. She had thought they were out of the woods, she had thought that everything would be okay, and now watching Neville clutching his chest she realized that they were far from the end. She swung her leg over the trough and lifted herself so she was straddling the Gryffindor and holding his arms so his chest was open.

"Neville, I need you to listen to me." Neville looked up at her, his eyes squinting in pain, his jaw locked and teeth barred to prevent himself from screaming aloud, and Graces was relieved to see that his eyes still held the Gryffindor fire that she knew would keep him going. "I need to stab your heart with this muggle device. It's a needle that will put the potion directly in your heart and then I can use it to directly take the poison out."

"Oi! You want to stab me. STAB me in the heart?!"

"It's perfectly safe, muggles do it all the time, and—"

"That's barb—*grunt*—baric! How did you even—" Graces watched as Neville's pain increased. He was trying to fight, trying hard to be able to maintain a conversation with her and not sink into the pain, but she knew this resolve wouldn't last and that the poison had seeped into his heart. The little bit that survived the potion in the water would kill him.

"Listen to me, Longbottom, if you do not let me do this you will die. I know what I am doing. It all makes sense. Most people die from this poison because there is no way to get it out of the heart. The potion usually works externally; if I place it in your heart and use the syringe to suck the poison out you will be fine. This is your only option if you want to live."

Neville stared up at her the hesitation in his eyes almost tangible. Graces could tell that he didn't really understand what a syringe was, didn't understand how the potion worked or anything really, for that matter. He understood that she wanted to stab a vital organ and that was it. She knew what she would do if he still refused. She would body bind him and he would still probably struggle and there was a chance she really would injure him if that was the case, but it was still better than him dying.

_He is not going to die. I will not let Neville Longbottom die by my hand._

"Okay."

Graces could feel her heart lifting at Neville's declaration. She quickly grabbed the needle and syringe out of her bag and dipped it into the water, gathering up some potion. She was about to plunge it down when Neville's hand was suddenly on her wrist.

"That is huge!"

Graces looked over at the long needle, realizing, by the blood that was now drained from Neville's face, that she just lost him. She cursed herself for not being wise enough to tell him to close his eyes.

"This? This little needle?" Graces smiled sickly, praying that she could coax Neville back to his earlier resolve.

"Come off it, Malfoy, you know that is not a little needle."

_Oh, so I'm Malfoy again._

"You can't seriously tell me you're scared? Not you, a big fearless Gryffindor. This is just a thin little needle. It will be over in a moment. It is nothing compared to the pain from earlier, Longbottom, trust me."

"I barely qualify to be a Gryffindor!" Neville gasped, still holding Graces wrist firmly away from him. "I'm always frightened. I'm frightened just to speak in class. I have no idea what the sorting hat was doing putting me in Gryffindor!"

Graces stared at the boy writhing beneath her. She could not believe that Neville Longbottom didn't believe he belonged in Gryffindor. "My aunt told me about when she fought you at the ministry. How a Death Eater broke your nose, how she taunted you about your mum and dad, how you couldn't even say a spell properly, your wand was broke, and how you still tried desperately to fight her to save your friends. She laughed the whole time telling us. She thought it was wildly funny."

"Glad to know I brought humor to your dinner conversation," Neville said tightly through gritted teeth.

"She said it was the most pathetic attempt she ever saw at someone trying to do magic." Neville was staring daggers up at Graces and she knew he was getting angrier with each sentence. "Do you know what I thought?"

"I know what you thought," Neville spat defensively.

"I don't think you do," Graces said quietly, "Everyone was laughing about it. All around me people seemed to think you a big joke, but I just couldn't stop thinking how… how brave you must be. And then I witnessed how brave you were every time you were jumped in the bathrooms. I… I've never met anyone as brave as you, Longbottom. Harry Potter himself, who everyone deems the epitome of Gryffindor bravery, doesn't hold a candle to you. He might have the biggest battle ahead of him, but you, you fight your battle every single day. Every time someone trips you in the hallway or calls you cruel names, or even just facing Snape. I remember in third year he was your boggart. You faced your biggest fear every single day and no one even knew. Potter goes off into battle surrounded by friends but you go in alone."

Neville blinked a few times, and it wasn't just what Graces said that had made him calm down, it was the look in her eyes when she told him. Like she was still in awe over what he had done.

"Aunt Bella made fun of you for trying to mutter spells with a broken nose and I just couldn't stop thinking how courageous that was. You stood up to her. You put yourself between her wand and your friends when you knew there was nothing you could do. Knowing how insane she is, knowing that she wouldn't kill you quickly."

Neville let go of Graces wrist and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. The blonde stared at his chest for a moment and then, in a spur of a moment decision, she leaned in and kissed him. There was a mumbled grunt of surprise at first and then she felt arms fold around her as though they had been craving to hold her tight and Neville sat up, deepening the kiss and pulling her into him. Graces slowly pulled away from him and in one swift movement, while he was still slightly intoxicated from the kiss, she plunged the needle into his heart. Neville cursed aloud, but it was done and Graces pushed the antidote in and then pulled the syringe taking the toxins out of his heart.

"I'm sorry, but I had to catch you off guard." Neville was now laying back down, his eyes heavily lidded, unaware of the gentle hand caressing his forehead. "The worst of the poison is gone, you should rest now. Your magic will fight the rest, it will work alongside the antidote, and I'll be here. Just sleep through it, everything will be better by morning."

Graces watched as Neville slowly slipped into unconsciousness, more fearful than ever of what she had done. She wanted to lie and tell herself that she kissed Neville only to distract him, but even if she could lie to herself successfully about that, she couldn't deny how it made her feel to kiss him. After a few minutes, she got out of the water and, with a steadying breath, took out her wand to begin the final step of Neville's recovery.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**

**Author's notes: This chapter is being uploaded before my second beta can review it. It will be reposted with the final editing on Friday, but I did not want to make all of you wait so long again. So ArthurDent2 has already fixed a majority of the punctuation mistakes in here, as well as aided me in areas that needed some fine tuning, and Denarii will finish up editing later when he isn't as busy.**

**Special thanks to Olli, kankananime123, and Phoenix for their reviews! Seriously, you guys rock. BTW Phoenix, I loved your last review! It was practically a whole paragraph! I was pretty stoked when I saw that. Since you don't have an account I couldn't express my gratitude more personally so I thought I would just place it here.**

Chapter Nine

Neville woke slowly, stretching his limbs before he opened his eyes. He could feel the water around him moving heavily, thick with the dark mixture of his blood and antidote. Gradually, he let the fog in his head lift so that he could remember all that had happened yesterday. He knew he should be more focused on the fact that Graces almost killed him and brewed a dangerous and illegal potion, but he couldn't seem to think of anything other than the kiss they shared. Did Graces really only kiss him to distract him? It certainly didn't feel that way. At the beginning, the kiss was so abrupt and forceful, Neville didn't know what to think of it. In all honestly it could have been mechanical on Graces' part, he was in such a state of shock he wouldn't know, but then, when he sat up and deepened the kiss, he felt her leaning into it.

Neville was becoming more and more aware of Graces' amazing acting skills, but at the same time he could also see them slipping. She could play cold, indifferent, cruel, ruthless, but what she couldn't fake was affection. Affection and warmth were what slipped through the cracks of her mask to reveal who she truly was. Neville did not doubt that she could mechanically kiss a man. It appeared, based off what Nott had said, she had done it often. But was the way she kissed him just an act, just two lips pressed together with no real feeling? The sandy haired boy didn't believe it was. He vividly remembered how the moment he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, she had reacted. She had immediately parted her lips, and gently moved her hands so her delicate fingers were entangled in his hair, and she had moved closer into him, even with how tightly he was already holding her. It was as though she still, despite the fact she was so close he could feel her heart hammering against his chest, didn't feel she was close enough to him, like it wasn't enough to assure her he was there. She held to him like she never wanted to let him go and he all too happily would have obliged. Then, she suddenly pulled away and stabbed him in the heart like the crazy witch she was.

Neville cautiously put his hand to where the small puncture mark was, he was definitely sore and there would be bruising, but as she had said, he would live. It was amazing how the small puncture mark seemed to be the only visible sign of the night before left on his body. The lacerations that Graces had made all along his arms and legs were perfectly healed, not even the faintest hint of a scar. He idly noted that he felt feverish, but it wasn't a main concern to him over the other things he was feeling. His magic felt… different… like there seemed to be this added foreign presence to it. He could feel the familiarity of his own magic dancing beneath the surface of his skin, almost as though it were dancing with a partner, a very lively partner that seemed to enjoy riling his magic up. He was almost overwhelmed with anxiety to have his own magic acting so animatedly, like a rushing river instead of it's usual gently quiet stream.

He decided that he would ask Graces about this, see if it was a side effect of the potion or something. He lifted himself out of the trough, rather clumsily, spilling its contents out onto the floor. The mess making the area around the trough look as though he had been savagely murdered and not saved. He could only imagine what the reaction would be if someone walked in and saw this. Deciding that he would rather that not happen and that he definitely didn't want to spend any longer soaked in his own blood, he searched for his wand, finding it on the floor beside him. He muttered a few spells to clean and dry himself, before cleaning up the mess.

After he finished, a small movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention: Graces. The blonde was lying peacefully in a makeshift bed of hay that was tucked into the corner of the bar, almost hidden away from the rest of the room. As Neville walked over, he was surprised to see that she was using his Gryffindor cloak as a blanket; as well as, his button up shirt as a nightgown. Not that he minded. In truth the sight warmed something deep in his chest, and the image of Graces sleeping like this in _his bed_, wearing _his clothes_ from the night before, was almost impossible for him to shake from his mind. Deciding that now was not the time to be fantasizing about such things, Neville turned to look for his trousers and undershirt. He knew Graces had seen everything already, but he still didn't fancy the idea of her waking up to find him in only his boxers. He found his undershirt hanging on a stall door next to Graces' damp clothes, but his trousers were still nowhere to be found. He was just about to accio his trousers over to him, when Graces shifted in her sleep, revealing them under her head. Neville sighed, knowing that he was in no way, shape, or form smooth enough to remove the article of clothing without waking the blonde. Feeling incredibly awkward, he went over to where Graces was sleeping soundly, and gently nudged her shoulder.

"Five more minutes, Pans," she pleaded sleepily, turning her face away.

"Umm... it's not Parkinson," Neville mumbled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Graces drowsily rolled over and slowly, as realization began to dawn in her eyes, she sat up. The first thing Neville noticed was how Graces swam in his shirt, it was far too big on her small frame. Even so, she had neglected to button the upper half, leaving her elegant collarbone and humble cleavage exposed. The only thing keeping Neville from seeing through the white collared shirt was her long hair flowing out over her breasts. Despite the situation, Neville could feel his heart immediately begin to race and his mouth go dry as he noticed the fine shape and contours of her breasts gently lifting the shirt up enough to peer down from where he stood. Graces, upon noticing his stares, pulled his cloak up to cover herself more discreetly. Neville blushed, and quickly looked away although it was far too late. "Sorry, I well umm-"

"It's fine," Graces interjected quietly, looking down at her knees under the cloak. "Nothing you haven't seen before." This time when she made the comment there was no humor with it.

"So... umm... You're wearing my clothes," Neville pointed out awkwardly, wondering why Graces was not in her own clothes.

Graces blushed and started playing with a piece of her hair. "Yeah, well mine were so wet and yours were dry…I pulled them off you before putting you in the trough, so it made sense for me to just wear yours."

"You didn't want to use a drying spell?" Neville questioned, still perplexed as to why she had chosen to wear his shirt.

Graces frowned and looked up puzzledly. "I... I thought you would have noticed, my magic must be so different than your own." The sandy haired boy just stared at the girl below him. "You didn't notice the numbers and ruins on the floor?" Neville looked down, as she had said, symbols were etched all along the floor. He should have noticed all of it when he came out of the trough, but the blood and the fact that they were so finely sketched, must have prevented him from seeing them.

"I never took arithmancy… or advanced ancient ruins… if that is what this all is. Either way, I don't know what this all means."

Graces nodded and bit down on her lower lip. She hesitated before saying, "I gave you my magic." Neville's eyes widened in horror. "Temporarily of course, you will have to give it back, but I gave it to you to help your body heal faster. The poison had gotten to your heart; while I stopped it from killing you, you still would have been very weak and sick for days possibly weeks... With my magic and yours working together though you will only be sick with a fever for a few days, but judging by how much healthier you look today, not even that."

Neville stared in disbelief at the girl before him. Graces Malfoy had given him her magic. He was feeling her magic dancing inside of him right now. Every time he turned the thought over in his head he still couldn't believe it. It made no sense. He knew how purebloods felt about their magic, nothing was more important, not even their heritage. Most pureblood witches and wizards held the belief that your life was not worth living if you were unable to do magic, so to give it to someone and trust that they would return it was a giant act of faith. An act of faith that even non-pureblood members of their society may not have been able to do. And Graces had done it, not to save his life which was already saved, but to save him from the discomfort of being bedridden.

"You... you will give it back? Won't you?" Graces asked, in an uncharacteristically small frightened voice, looking up at him.

"Yes, of course," Neville reassured, dropping down to his knees to be eye level with her. The relief in Graces face was almost immediate. "Just tell me how."

"Put your hands above mine so that our palms are facing. As long as you will it to come back to me, it will go. It belongs to me, and I belong to it; we belong to one another, it will come back willingly." Neville did as he was told. He placed his palms above her outstretched, up facing, ones and concentrated only on giving her back her magic. He felt a strange pulling sensation in his hands, as if something were being dragged out from his fingertips and the center of his palm, and his whole body tingled, but there was no visible sign of anything being passed on from him to was odd feeling magic leave his palms in such a manner, he could feel Graces magic swirling inside him as though deciding to be extra flamboyant with its exit. He then looked up and noticed how tired Graces looked; she seemed as though she had not slept in months, much like Remus Lupin would look, but as her magic flowed back into her she began to appear healthier. Neville knew it wasn't that she needed her magic to look healthy; squibs didn't have magic and still looked well. He realized that Graces magic must have been working to keep her healthy. Meaning that she wasn't healthy to begin with, even now he could see that she needed a good night's rest. She looked exhausted.

When the last of her magic had left him, he watched as she gave a content smile, her eyes closed as though she was basking in the sensation.

"Your magic is so different from mine," Neville commented, a small bashful smile playing on his lips.

Graces opened her silver orbs and smiled wickedly at him. "More powerful?"

Neville chuckled, "Yes it is, but it's more than that its... I don't know... playful? No, something like that but different it's..."

"Wild," Graces offered, helpfully a smirk settled on her face.

"Yes! That's it: wild." The sandy haired boy stared at her waiting for her to say more.

"Dark isn't evil, Longbottom, it's wild. You can't tame it, I think that is why light wizards are scared of it so. It's wild and free, it demands and tempts, and it's wonderful in so many ways. "

"So you have declared dark?" Neville asked.

Graces smiled, "Of course. I am a Malfoy after all. I suppose you have already declared light?"

Neville smiled, "I'm a Longbottom after all."

"And the heir," Graces added.

Neville nodded, it was easy for him to forget how important that was to purebloods. In Gryffindor no one really thought much of it, but Graces obviously made note of it when thinking of him. Neville Longbottom: pureblood son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, declared family of light, heir to the Longbottom clan, and known blood traitor. He suspected that her requirements given to her for choosing a husband were that he had to be a pureblood, had to be the heir, and had to be loyal to blood lines. To Neville none of those things mattered, and yet, in her world they were everything. He thought in such a different way when thinking about people. For instance Hermione was smart, nosy, fierce, compassionate, and incredibly brave. Graces would say she was a Gryffindor and a muggleborn.

"I wonder what yours feels like," Graces said airily, more to herself than the boy sitting by her.

"Well, thanks to your ancient ruin skills you can find out."

"What? You can't be serious," Graces voiced scandalized.

"Why not?"

"I could steal your magic and leave you to be a squib for the rest of your life!"

Neville chuckled at how offended Graces was on his behalf. "You wouldn't do that. Would the ruins allow us to do it again?"

"Yes, but -"

"Really, I want to."

Graces bit her lip but eventually nodded. Neville wondered if her magic was singing in her body demanding to be near his; he knew his was. He almost felt giddy at the prospect of his magic mingling with hers again, even if he wouldn't be the one to feel it, he knew that he would feel content after. Also he wanted to see if Graces experienced anything like he had.

A few moments after his magic went into her Graces eyes widened. "That's different." Neville waited patiently wondering if she was meaning good different or bad. "Yours is so... gentle."

"Gentle?"

"Yeah, gentle. Oddly comforting." Graces was biting her lip deep in thought, she let out a small giggle. "My magic is just teasing yours."

"Teasing?" Neville exclaimed, "I should have known a Malfoy's magic would taunt mine." He couldn't help but grin warmly at Graces though.

Graces just continued to laugh. "Not maliciously, just playfully. It seems mine wants to rile yours up; your magic is a lot more powerful when it is riled up. You're a lot more powerful than people think." Graces gave Neville a devious smile, before continuing. "Maybe you just need to be riled up in the right way more often."

Neville sat enchanted by the girl in front of him. He liked that she was enjoying his magic flowing through hers as much he enjoyed hers in him. He could spend the rest of his life as a squib if it meant that he could watch her giggling and smiling like this. And the best part would be knowing that he made her that happy.

"Yeah I noticed that, looks like your magic has a bit of a crush on mine," Neville teased, smirking.

Graces smile faded, "It does not," she denied defiantly, her cold gray eyes boring into Neville. There was an uncomfortable silence for a while where all Neville could hear was Graces' and his breathing. After a moment she shook her head and closed her eyes as though trying to gain back her temper. "Here I need to give it back to you; you're not well you need your magic."

Neville nodded and accepted his own magic back; he was a little thrown off by the sudden turn in Graces attitude, but didn't want to press her. Something told him that if he pressed Graces he would get pushed.

Graces made a noise as though clearing her throat to get Neville's attention. When he looked at her she was standing his cloak wrapped around her. "I need to change."

Neville blushed and awkwardly stood up grabbing his trousers from the hay. He fumbled a bit putting them on trying to hurry, now suddenly remembering he was just in boxers and then turned and faced the wall.

"Don't peak!" He heard Graces call. He nodded and was glad that he was facing away from the girl because he couldn't help from smiling and rolling his eyes. He understood that she didn't want him to see her dress, but it was so odd after he had already seen her. All of her for that matter. Not to mentioned touched and-

"Okay, I'm decent." He turned around and took his shirt buttoning it up all the way, but not tucking it in. Graces looked fully dressed as though she were going to go to classes. "You should head to the hospital wing now. You still have a fever and you need the rest."

"I could say the same for you," Neville said, looking down at her.

"I'm fine; I'm used to not getting a lot of sleep."

"Still, I felt your magic, it's exhausted. Magical exhaustion can be dangerous."

"I'm fine," Graces said coldly, going back to her normal demeanor towards him.

Neville could feel his frustration beginning to boil. "Listen, if you don't go to the hospital wing and at least have Madam Pomfrey check you out, then I will not go."

"Don't be stupid! You almost died last night you have to go."

"And you worked yourself to the bone and didn't have your magic to help you heal. I'm not budging on this."

Graces glared up at him, and Neville noted how much she could look like her father. He admittedly was uncomfortable with the glare, but continued to stand his ground and trying not flinch.

"Fine," Graces agreed curtly, turning away from him. "I will come, but after breakfast. I don't want us showing up at the same time, it would look suspicious. Go to the hospital wing now, tell Madam Pomfrey you just have a fever, and get some rest."

"How do I know you will come?" Neville asked skeptically.

"I'll come."

"I'm just supposed to take your word on this?"

"Yeah you are!" Graces spat, turning around. "Have I given you any reason to doubt my word?" Neville growled but shook his head. "Great, then I will see you after breakfast."

"Why can't you just go now?" Neville asked again, the more he looked at Graces the more he realized how unwell she was. She must have been putting glamour's on her eyes to hide the bags and redness that gave away her lack of sleep, there was no way that she looked this tired from only missing one night's rest.

"BECAUSE MY BROTHER WILL WORRY!" she shrieked, losing her temper. Graces put her face in her hands for a moment, clearly disgusted with herself for losing her composure. When she looked up, she swallowed hard and did her best to try and regain herself. Her voice sounded frail as if she were about to cry from frustration and exhaustion. "He'll worry. I just need to go to breakfast and tell him I am going to the hospital wing. If I don't, and he finds out I am there, he will skip classes and come storming in demanding to know what is going on."

Neville nodded and let her leave the barn, he waited a few moments, vanished all the tell-tale signs that they had been there and then proceeded to the hospital wing.

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Neville sat in the hospital bed growing more and more impatient as every second ticked by. Pomfrey had checked his vitals, given him a potion, talked to him a bit about how his gran was doing, taken care of four first years who had nasty jinxes that caused boils to appear on their bums and sent them on their way, and Graces still had not shown. He was beginning to lose hope that she would show at all when the hospital wings doors opened and Graces came gliding through over to where Madam Pomfrey was sitting at her desk.

"Miss. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey greeted a bit surprised, "you're not having headaches are you?"

Graces smiled sweetly revealing her perfect teeth, "Oh no, nothing like that, Madam Pomfrey, I was just hoping you could give me a pepper up potion for today."

_I'm going to kill her!_ Neville thought leaning forward in his bed and staring at Graces incredulously. It was then that he realized Graces had only given her word that she would go to the hospital wing; she never said she would rest. _I should have known this would happen. She is a Slytherin._

"Pepper up potion," the mediwitch repeated slowly, her eyes fixated on Graces, "and why do you need pepper up potion Miss. Malfoy?"

"Oh you know, I've just been so busy lately with prefect's duties, school work, being on the Slytherin quidditch team, choir, and of course tutoring the younger years. I just feel a bit fatigued."

Madam Pomfrey sat back in her chair her elbows sitting on the armrest of her seat while her hands played with her wand in front of her chest. "That would all still allow you adequate amount of time to sleep at night. Furthermore, your glamour isn't fooling me, Miss. Malfoy, I can see the bags under your eyes, and considering that you are a powerful witch you must be more than a bit fatigued for your magic to not be giving an affective glamour charm."

Graces stopped smiling and up turned her chin offensively. "My magic is fine."

Pomfrey stood up and came to stand in front of the blond, Graces just stood there unflinching with her perfect posture palms folded in front of her dignity. A perfect image of a pure blood witch. Pomfrey eyed her for a moment before waving her wand and taking off the glamour and then casting a diagnostic spell. Graces did not move, but her eyes were seething with fury.

"My gods', child," Pomfrey whispered, looking at the diagnosis. "You can't have had a good night's sleep in months. Your magic is seriously exhausted, and this kind of exhaustion doesn't come from normal everyday use, what were you doing last night?"

Graces gave a predatory smile. "Why, Madam Pomfrey, you gave me the birth control potion. What do you think I've been doing at all hours of the night?"

Neville had never seen Madam Pomfrey look so feral, he had heard that she used to duel, but it was hard to believe that she was a dueler when she was constantly fussing over every scrape and bruise that a child came in with. Now though he could see the ferocity in her eyes.

"That does not explain the magical exhaustion," she countered tightly, in a way that told Graces that she did not believe her excuse.

"What can I say?" Graces shrugged, "I like it rough; I have to put all my magic in my limbs. That's hours of hard work, sometimes whole nights."

"Then why is it I have yet to see your partner in here suffering from magical exhaustion?" The mediwitch challenged, pointing out the flaws in Graces' story.

"You know young boys. Takes a lot to wear them out."

"I know who you have been with, Miss. Malfoy," Pomfrey said, looking over at Neville for a brief moment and causing Graces mask to slip.

"How could you possibly know?" Graces asked, trying to be more composed and ignoring Neville.

"Two files of Hogwarts students were updated to sexually active at the same time, it's obvious. Now, I am not going to say anything to anyone, patient confidentiality in consideration, but I know that you are lying right now."

Graces took a step forward so that she was nose to nose with the mediwitch smirking devilishly, "You don't know _know_; you're assuming. This other boy and I could have both just had sex with two people who were already sexually active at the same time. And even if you were right, which you are not, you know what they say about those quiet ones."

Pomfrey, obviously done playing games with Graces, turned to Neville. "Mr. Longbottom, have you entered a sexual relationship with Miss. Malfoy?"

Graces mouth dropped open and she looked over at Neville and said without a word that he better keep his mouth shut.

"What?" Neville squeaked, immediately clearing his throat in embarrassment. "No, of... of course not, me and Malfoy? No, I mean look at her and look at me. And ... well umm no. No, I have not."

Graces smacked her palm to her forehead and was muttering obscenities to herself, as the mediwitch just smiled fondly over at the Gryffindor. "You're a terrible liar, Neville." She then turned to Graces and sighed, "Go lay down in a hospital bed, Miss. Malfoy, preferably one away from Mr. Longbottom. I think a full day of rest will do wonders. I will give you a potion to help your magic." Graces went over to the far side of the ward and shut the curtains around her, even though it was just Neville and Pomfrey there. Neville felt a bit put out that she didn't even send him a glance, but he dismissed it and watched as Pomfrey fixed the potion for Graces.

"Madam Pomfrey," he began timidly, which caused the mediwitch to pause her work and look over at him an eyebrow raised. "I well… I just wanted to say… that... umm… I never… well I never was… rough with her. And we only did it once. She… uh well… she seems to think it was a mistake." Neville said the last one quietly and Pomfrey could hear the hurt in his voice.

Neville was playing with a piece of imaginary lint on the bed and looking down at the white blanket as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He felt the bed dip and saw the mediwitch sitting beside him. "I know you weren't rough with her, Neville," she comforted, "Miss. Malfoy is a complicated creature to say the least, but I don't think she regrets what you two did for the reasons you think she does."

"She said I'm not the kind of man she is supposed to end up with," Neville confided, still looking down.

"According to her parents, and what she had been raised to believe, you're not. Your gran would agree that she is not the type of girl you should end up with as well. I can tell you have feelings for her, but unfortunately circumstances will make any relationship you two tried for to be filled with pain and having to choose between the people you love. I think Miss. Malfoy is right in that you two should stay away from a romantic relationship together."

"She's not a bad person. She's a really lovely person once she lets her guard down."

"I do not doubt that, Neville, I am sure she is wonderful, but I know she loves her family and I can't see her betraying them." Madam Pomfrey gently hugged the heart torn boy and then left him to think of what she said.

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Madam Pomfrey entered into the curtained area where Graces was lying down. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was staring forward refusing to acknowledge the mediwitch's presence. Pomfrey pretended not to notice the young Malfoy's foul mood. In all honestly she didn't expect anything else from her. Graces Malfoy would not be an easy patient, she would not tell her why she wasn't sleeping and there would be no thanks for making her well again. The mediwitch didn't mind though as long as she did get well; she did however want to talk to the girl.

"So Neville Longbottom... can't say I saw that coming," Pomfrey commented airily, as though she were discussing the weather and not a student's sex life. She glanced up from the try to see Graces just staring at her with great loathing; she just continued to go back to her work preparing the medication as if she had not noticed. "Not to say Neville isn't a handsome lad, he seems to be growing into his looks, but still never thought I would live to see the day when a Malfoy was getting along with a Longbottom or any light wizarding family for that matter, let alone be sleeping with one."

This time when she turned around Graces was sitting up in bed, her silver eyes watching Pomfrey as though she were a dangerous animal that needed to be put down. Her face was devoid of emotion, but her eyes were alight with a fierce fire that would have made the mediwitch flinch if she had not known how severely weak the girl was at the moment. She handed Graces the potion with a chiding smile, the patient took it, her eyes never moving off her. Pomfrey turned to leave.

"That will help your magic, but you need sleep as well. I suggest you take the day to rest and I better not see you sneaking over to Longbottom. Don't want you more worn out, especially since Mr. Longbottom can be so _rough_, as you say."

"Wait." The mediwitch turned at hearing Graces voice, a bit surprised that the girl was not going to continue to ignore her. She did want to get a rise out of her, but she knew that getting a rise out of a pure blood witch especially a Malfoy took more effort than this. Graces seemed a bit unsure of what she was going to say, she didn't look mad, she seemed more uncomfortable than anything. "Longbottom was never… rough with me. I didn't realize that you… _knew_ who it was. He wasn't rough."

Pomfrey sighed, "Miss. Malfoy, I am well aware that Mr. Longbottom was not rough with you." The girl just nodded seemingly satisfied with the answer. "I am curious though how you two ended up in such a situation though."

"That is private," Graces said coldly, going back to her frigid demeanor. Pomfrey decided that now was the time to leave.

"Get some rest Miss. Malfoy."

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_Everything was dark; Graces listened to the echo of her feet as she walked in the darkness. She was looking for someone or something, she didn't really know. She just knew that she needed to be found or she needed to find. There were no walls, no ground even, just darkness. Darkness that she couldn't even hide in; it was the type of darkness that offered no protection from other's eyes. She could see long pale hair tied back in a low ponytail. _

_"Father!" she exclaimed in relief. Father would know what she was looking for or maybe he was what she was looking for. "Father! Father!" Lucius did not turn to her so she began running, "Dad! Dad!" She ran faster the air in her lungs starting to burn, but she pushed through it. Her father was here, he would know what to do, he would save her from whatever was lurking in the darkness. She ran and ran and realized with horror that no matter how fast she ran the unmoving figure didn't come any closer to her. "Dad!" she screamed stopping, "Dad, please look at me! Dad, try to come to me!" The figure then turned and she looked at her father's face._

_The once handsome man looked haggard, his elegant robes that he usually wore were dirty and he had shackles on his wrists. "Daddy?" Graces whimpered. The blond man just shook his head sadly and turned away. As if saying 'No, I can't help you. I can't be your Daddy now'._

_Graces sobbed and turned away from her father, unsure of what to do, he was out of her reach; she couldn't help him. 'Mother will know what to do,' she thought. She turned and immediately knocked into her mother. _

_"Mum!" she exclaimed, grabbing hold of her waist as though she needed to feel her to believe her real. "Father needs help."_

_Her mother lifted her chin and met her silver eyes with her blue ones. "There is no help for your father child." Graces took a step back. Her mother stood there before her, but she was just a shell. There was no fierceness to her eyes, no unspoken dignity to her stance, she looked… broken._

_"Mum?" Narcissa Malfoy just closed her eyes and her mouth was moving as though words should be coming out, but no words came. There was nothing. "Mummy? What do I do?" Narcissa's eyes opened and her mouth continued to move, but no advice was offered. Graces tried to tell her she couldn't hear her, tried to get her to understand that no noise was coming, but her mother just continued on. _

_"PLEASE LISTEN TO ME! WHAT DO WE DO? WHAT CAN WE DO?"_

_"Don't you see, my child?" Narcissa said, suddenly loud and clear. "We can do nothing, it is up to Draco. Our fate is in Draco's hands."_

_In a blur of colors Narcissa was now gone and the image before her was Draco kneeling before the Dark Lord, his arm held out in front of him in offering to take the dark mark. Graces moved to be near her brother, to stop him from making the mistakes of their father, when a hard hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned to fight off whoever dared to touch her and there stood her Aunt Bellatrix._

_"This is an honor, child; your brother has been given a great task. This is what our family needs to be back on top. Why do you look so frightened? Be proud of your brother!"_

_"No!" Graces shouted, pulling herself away from her aunt. "NO! Not Draco! He'll die! He can't defeat him!"_

_Bellatrix had a dreamy smile on her face, "To die in the service of our Lord is such an honor."_

_"NO!" Graces turned and began running towards Draco. The scene had changed again and he was dueling with Dumbledore, but the twinkle eyed headmaster was no longer looking so meek and kind. He was dueling furiously using spells that would injure, maim, and kill. "Draco! Draco!" Draco did not hear her, he was struggling just to keep moving away from the spells. "DRACO! DRACO!" Graces was now running forward, she could see Dumbledore was about to use the killing curse and she leaped into her brother's arms as the flash of green light came. _

_Yet, she wasn't dead. She opened her eyes and Draco was holding her tightly on the ground. "It will be okay, Graces, just close your eyes. Go stand by mum." She turned around and Voldemort was standing before her brother and her. "Go."_

_Graces didn't go, instead she held tightly to Draco. _

_"Draco, Draco, you disappoint me," the Dark Lord tutted, "I give you one task, one chance to prove yourself to me, to save your family, and you failed. And you know how I feel about failure."_

_Graces looked at her brother, his jaw was set and his eyes were alive with knowledge. "Go to mum, Graces. Close your eyes."_

_"No, no, no, no," Graces whispered, "I won't leave you. Together we came, together we will leave." _

_"How sweet," the Dark Lord chided, "but we have other plans for you, Miss. Malfoy." Abruptly arms were around her trying to pull her away from Draco._

_"DRACO! DRACO!" She struggled and fought against the arms, still holding tightly to her brother's chest, but he was no longer holding her. Draco accepted his fate, his defeat, his death. A strong pull loosened her grip and she was holding her brother's arm while it just dangled limply. "DRACO! NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, NOT DRACO, PLEASE! NOT MY BROTHER, NOT DRACO!" Tears were swimming down her face as she clung to her brother's arm. He wouldn't even look at her; she was staring at Voldemort, begging him now. "PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING, NOT DRACO, PLEASE!"_

_"I have other ways of making you do what I want," the Dark Lord alluded, with a sickening smile. A final pull took her away from her brother and Fenrir Greyback was on top of her holding her shoulders down. She struggled harder against the weight, pulling all her magic in her limbs as she kicked and scratched against the force keeping her away from her brother._

_"It is an honor to die at the hands of our Lord," her aunt proclaimed, smiling at Voldemort. "Your brother could have been killed by a follower of his, but he chose to kill him himself. Such an honor."_

_"NO!" Graces wailed, seeing Voldemort lift his wand for the finale, her brother's bloody limp body in front of him. "GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME! DRACO! DRACO! KILL ME INSTEAD! DRACO, DRACO, DRACO!"_

_Then, with a flash of green light, she knew it was over, her brother was gone. She cried out, angry tears running down her face and let Greyback hold her down, no longer caring to fight him. "You're all alone now," he whispered in her ear ,"No daddy or big brother to protect you anymore. You're ours."_

_She didn't dignify that with a response, he brother was dead, why should she care anymore about anything? She mumbled his name again and again as though saying it would bring him closer to her. As though this wasn't real, like it was a -_

"-dream. Wake up, child, it's just a bad dream." Graces woke to see the mediwitch straddling her in her hospital bed. Madam Pomfrey's hair had come loose around her face and there was a deep scratch mark going down her cheek to her neck. She was still holding her down, her arms firmly over her shoulders and Neville was holding her legs his nose bloody and a large bruise forming on his cheek and under his eyes.

Slowly the mediwitch let go of her arms and moved to get off the bed. Neville followed suit soon after. Graces sat up still shaking from head to toe and drenched in sweat. She could feel it dripping down her face onto her chest and her hair was wet against her neck and cheeks. Her clothes were clinging to her moist body and all she wanted to do was curl up into herself.

"Oh, sweetheart," Pomfrey said gently, placing a cold towel on her neck to cool her down, "nightmares. Why didn't you say something?" Graces pulled her knees up under her chin and looked straight ahead at nothing. She didn't want this. She didn't need pity. "I can give you dreamless sleep potion for awhile and-"

"No you can't." Graces clipped, "I used it all summer."

"You became addicted; couldn't sleep without it?" the mediwitch asked slowly. Graces just nodded in reply. "And now you sleep, but still have the nightmares?" Graces nodded again; Pomfrey sat next to her and put out a hand to clasp her shoulder, but Graces moved away sharply. The mediwitch just nodded sadly. "I am giving you dreamless sleep, it's far worse for you to not be sleeping and having such violent night terrors than to be addicted to a sleeping medication. I will work in the mean time on finding something else to give you, but for this week at least you may take the potion." Graces just nodded again. "How do your housemates sleep?"

"I put silencing charms on my bed curtains and lock them," Graces stated mutely.

Pomfrey nodded and left the room to fetch the potion; it was then that Neville stepped forward and sat on the bed next to her.

Graces looked over at his bloody face and grimaced. "Did I do that?" she asked, a ball in her throat welling up.

"This?" Neville asked, gesturing to his face a warm smile on his lips. "Naw, I got this battling a right foot."

Graces didn't accept the humor, instead it just made the lump in her throat grow so large she felt as though she were choking on it. "Was it my right foot?" she asked hoarsely. She felt Neville's arms reach out to hold her around her shoulders and she knew that he would bring her into his chest if she let him and from there he would hold her close and it would feel so warm, so inviting, so safe and she would cry. She would cry endlessly and cling to him nuzzling her nose in his neck to hide her face, but allowing him to feel her tears. She would cry so hard she would have to gasp for breath and he would just hold her and comfort her and whisper nonsensical words in her ear to make her feel better. He would see her in all her raw agony and her weaknesses would be exposed. And if she was honest with herself, what really scared her the most about that scenario wasn't that she would be exposed to Neville, it was that she was okay with being exposed to him.

So she turned away and jumped off the bed standing in the corner of the curtains. "I don't need your pity."

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Neville sat abandoned on the hospital bed and Graces glared at him. "I don't-"

"Yes. You. Do. I can see it in your eyes." The sandy haired boy watched as she backed farther away from him. She reminded him of a dangerous animal that was cornered, she looked like she wanted to run away and fight all at once.

"Maybe I do," he contended quietly, "is that so awful that I have empathy for you? That I want to help you in any way I can."

Graces set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Yes."

"Why?" Neville implored, standing up and taking a step close to her causing the girl to move so that she was against the curtains.

"You know why."

"No, I don't," Neville insisted, moving closer so that he was near enough to touch her. Then the curtains opened and when he turned, expecting to see Pomfrey, he saw Hannah.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Hannah apologized, looking confused "I just… I heard you were sick and I thought I'd visit. It looked like this was the only bed occupied cause the curtains and…" Hannah then frowned and looked at Graces "What is she doing here anyways?"

Neville moved in front of Graces; he didn't want anyone to see her like this. He knew she didn't want to be seen sweaty and shaking looking this tired and frightened.

"She's sick too." Neville stated unsure of what else to say.

"Yes, but why are you two in here together?" Hannah was now frowning as though the thought of having to spend any time with Graces was awful. "Merlin's beard, Nev, what happened to your face?"

"WILL YOU JUST LEAVE!" Graces shouted, causing Neville to wince as the sound penetrated inside his ear.

"I don't take orders from you Malfoy," Hannah quipped, sticking her chin up.

"Hannah," Neville pleaded quietly, "please, I think it would be best if you left."

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Hannah could not believe that Neville wanted her to leave. It was unthinkable. "Neville, don't you want me here?"

She watched as Neville's eyes looked towards her and then looked behind him at Graces. "No, I uh… this isn't a good time, Hannah. I appreciate that you are here, of course, but I well…"

"We're very sick," Graces elaborated coldly, "quarantined together."

Hannah looked around the room. "With only one bed?"

"Are you a half brain as well as a half blood?" Graces spat impatiently, "Of course there is another bed, Pomfrey is getting it. Longbottom here bleed all over the first one. Now get out."

Hannah could feel her rage building inside of her, how dare she call her that and how dare Neville let her. She looked over at Neville to see what he was going to do. They were dating after all, possibly past dating after that kiss, he should be defending her right now. Neville was just standing there though looking torn about what to do.

"Neville!" Hannah cried, "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?!"

Neville ran a hand through his hair, "Hannah, she's really sick and so am I for that matter. I'm sure she doesn't mean it; she's just upset and sick."

"Neville, stop being so damn understanding for her! I know that you're a nice guy and always try to see the best in people, but will you stop for one moment and just care about how she is talking to me!"

Neville then turned to face Graces and said with no real scolding, "Malfoy, please don't insult my friend." Hannah watched as he then turned back to her an annoyed look on his face. "There better?"

"No! It's not!"

"I'm sorry, Hannah, but what exactly would you want me to do?"

"I can't believe I have to even tell you this!" Hannah was now beyond pissed. "Yell at her! Hex her hair off! Something!"

Neville had the audacity to stare at her as though she was the one that had done something wrong. He moved so that his body was covering Graces more, his back pressed against her and his stance was in a way that told Hannah that if she reached for her wand he would grab at his own against her.

"I am not going to do that, Hannah. She's sick and she has asked you to leave. We both have asked you to leave, I'm not happy about what she said to you, but you're not respecting her either."

Hannah did not know what to think of what Neville was doing. First there was how he acted towards her on their date and now this. Not to mention the odd questioning after the first day of herbology. The Malfoys caused him nothing but misery, why was he protecting her?

"Miss. Abbot?" Hannah turned and saw Madam Pomfrey enter. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Neville," Hannah said, eyeing the boy in front of her. "I heard he was sick."

"Yes he is," Pomfrey said sternly, "and he and Miss. Malfoy do not need visitors in their state. You should leave before you get sick."

"I may already be sick," Hannah said, looking at the mediwitch. "If what they have is extremely contagious I could be sick now. We've been spending a lot of time together and we uh well... we were kissing the other night."

Madam Pomfrey looked over and Neville and gave him a look that made Hannah frown and Neville look down at his shoes obviously deeply ashamed. "I highly doubt you have caught anything, Miss. Abbot, you would have shown symptoms of it by now. One of the symptoms being a lack of common sense and tact."

Neville flushed a deep red and Hannah nodded her head and left. She wondered what Neville had, but if it did cause symptoms like Madam Pomfrey said then that explained Neville's odd behavior.

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As soon as Hannah left Madam Pomfrey had rounded on him pulled him out of Graces room and placed him on his own bed. "Neville Alastar Longbottom, I expected better from you." Neville nodded and looked down. It did seem bad; him going from sleeping with Graces Malfoy to kissing Hannah Abbott. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Neville looked up opened his mouth and then just closed it. "I.. she... she said it was a mistake and... Hannah asked me out... then she yeah and I didn't want to be rude so I ... went with it... But I haven't kissed her since then, honestly I didn't even kiss her back then… not that it matters…they both think I did.."

"And Miss. Malfoy?"

Neville blushed, "Well umm... she sort of... umm kissed me the other night... but just to distract me and-"

"Distract you? Why was Miss. Malfoy distracting you?"

Neville realized with panic that he almost gave away what had happened the night before. "Nothing, I didn't mean distract I meant... well."

Madam Pomfrey held up her hand to silence him before he could go any further. She closed her eyes in frustration and took several deep breathes, "You know Neville, I don't want to know. Something tells me I do not. Want. To. Know."

"Can... can I speak to Graces before you give her that potion?"

Pomfrey looked down at the boy she had been taking care of for the last six years, "No, Miss. Malfoy I think has had enough excitement for one day. I need to talk to her privately before she takes the potion and I don't want her up any longer than she has to be."

Neville couldn't hide the disappointment on his face. He wanted to beg and plead with Pomfrey to let him see her, but he knew that once she made the decision of no visitors the point was mute. He nodded and decided that he could talk to Graces later; she did owe him a life debt so they would be spending plenty of alone time working on potions together. He would tell her then that Hannah wasn't his girlfriend he would convince her that he cared about her and hopefully she would stop being so stubborn and at least let him care.

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Graces was lost in a sea of confusion. Neville had been protective of her. He protected her from his friend and not in a passive way. Also, he had kept what happened between them the other night a secret to protect her as well. It was hard for her to accept though, why would Neville Longbottom want to protect her? She was a Malfoy. Not only had her family never been on good terms with his, not only had her Aunt and father tried to kill him last year as well were directly responsible for leaving him without parents, but she wasn't nice to him either. She had never once tried to be nice to Neville; she never stopped her brother from mocking him or stopped him and his friends for beating the tar out of him. There was no reason for him to be protective of her. Yes, she could understand why he personally never felt the need to do any harm to her; she had never directly done harm to him, if one did not count the night before, but still to be protective of her, and to want to comfort her after… well after she woke up. He acted like he truly cared, but it didn't make sense for him to care. It was… wrong for him to care.

"Graces," the confused girl turned and faced the mediwitch who had just re-entered "come lay in the bed dear." She didn't move to the bed, she just couldn't seem to find it in her to move, she wanted to stay in the corner where Neville and everyone had left her. There was no doubt in her mind that it was time to lay down, to let the warm folds of the covers take her away from reality and into a dreamless abyss, but she didn't want that now. Madam Pomfrey took a step towards her and on instinct she took a step back. "Gra-"

"Don't. I don't want your pity, I don't want you to hold me and tell me everything is alright, that it was a bad dream, that you are going to help me and all that other stupid Gryffindor nonsense."

The mediwitch sighed, "Would you like to at least tell me what you dreamed?"

"Are you not listening or are you daft?" Graces spat, "All I want is that potion you have in your hands and for you to leave me alone."

"I realize what you want child, but talking about things will help. Potions are only temporary solutions to your problems; you need to talk through them, perhaps I could help."

"You can't." Graces maintained, her frigid silver eyes staring into the Pomfrey's gentle blue.

The two women stood there in a pregnant silence each staring at one another. "Maybe your brother then?" Pomfrey tried, desperately clinging to hope that the girl before her would seek help.

"I will not burden my brother with this."

"I am sure your brother will not consider this a burden." Graces just shook her head and turned away, not wanting this discussion to go on any further. She jumped when she felt firm hands turn her around and the mediwitch was looking at her imploringly. "You screamed your brother's name again and again, you pleaded for mercy on his behalf, you wailed to be let go, you fought me and Neville like we were killing you, and then you begged for death. You need to talk to someone; you need to let me help you."

"What I need," Graces began slowly stressing each word, "is dreamless sleep."

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**Don't forget to review/follow! But mostly don't forget to review! Haha I think we should have some quid pro quo agreement, I give you a chapter you give me a review. :P **

**Next chapter is rated M for well… you know XXX. My point being, this is your warning in case you don't like that sort of stuff.**


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